


close to you

by lifedontjustexist



Series: Close To You. [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (he won’t appear but he’ll be addressed later on), (there’ll be warnings before he’s discussed and that’s not happening for a while anyways), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bisexual Peter Parker, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Harley Keener, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Humor, I might look like I know what I’m doing, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, Mutual Pining, Skip Westcott is His Own Warning, Slow Burn, but i dont, don’t trust me I don’t even trust myself, harley-centric, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-02-15 20:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18676834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifedontjustexist/pseuds/lifedontjustexist
Summary: Harley Keener was four years old when he first felt the bond between him and his soulmate. Over a decade later, he still hasn’t found them.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> (This took longer than I thought oops—)  
> The first fic in this series was in present tense and this is in past tense, I just personally like character-focused things one way and plot-focused things another. I’m running on two hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, who knows what’s technically grammatically correct anymore anyways  
> On that note, enjoy~! Plz comment it’ll fuel me to write chapter 2–
> 
> (Note to self: HTML on mobile is a bitch)

The New York skyline was breathtaking.

Harley had lived fifteen years on this planet, yet he’d only left Rose Hill twice in his life. Both times were owed to Tony Stark flying him out somewhere for the two of them to spend time together (though Tony came to visit much more than he’d taken Harley away). And now, today marked his third time leaving.

It was a bit more permanent this time.

After the seventeenth incident of Harley falling asleep in class yet answering questions and acing tests with unrivaled _boredom_ , it had been Abbie to make the suggestion through a mouthful of mac and cheese:

“Why not go live in New York with Tony? He mentioned last week that one of his interns goes to a STEM school. I’m sure they’d take a nerd like you.”

He’d almost told her to shut up before their mom piped in, “Sounds like something you’d enjoy.”

She’d said it half-jokingly, but clearly she had been serious.

Harley stood at the edge of the penthouse at the top of Stark Tower, the living room to be precise, eyes wide and a grin on his face. Tony stood somewhere behind him, on the phone with Pepper about yet another meeting he’d neglected to attend. Whatever it was, Harley was too busy seeing how many buildings he could name, there wasn’t time to care.

He took a picture of the city on his phone, sending it to Abbie.

Harley turned his head to look back at Tony, who was no longer defending himself but rather smiling fondly as he spoke into the phone, “See Pep, this is why you’re the best soulmate anyone could ask for.”

“How dare!” Harley yelled, placing a hand over his heart, feigning offense. Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “Pepper is legit a _goddess_ but title of best soulmate goes to my soulmate!”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that, or else I’ll ship you back to Tennessee in a crate, capiche?”

Harley threw Tony his mischievous smirk, calling out, “FRIDAY, is he serious?”

“He is not, Sir Keener,” FRIDAY responded. 

Tony rolled his eyes, but it didn’t escape Harley that his the corner of his lip twitched as if holding back a smile. Harley smiled, turning back to look out at the city that was now officially his second home. Behind him, he heard Tony going back to talking to Pepper, something about complaining about ‘stupid egotistical teenagers’.

Harley really wished that one day, he’d have that kind of love with his own soulmate. He dug deep, opening the connection between them and smiling when he felt a hint of stress from his soulmate. It was the same feeling as when Abbie and he made something for dinner and they both mourned their stomachs because no way in hell were either of them good cooks— 

He thumbed his collarbone, closing his eyes when he felt a tug at his fingers as if his soulmate was holding his hand. There was an underlying question there, _what has you so nervous?_ He wished he could tell his soulmate that he’d moved, that he was finally out in the world and perhaps one step closer to meeting them. But he couldn’t. That wasn’t how this _worked._

Years later and he still wasn’t quite sure _how_ it worked. They couldn’t hear each other’s voices, they didn’t get each other’s scars, and they certainly had no idea _how_ they would recognize each other. Some days, their feelings were obvious, other days were more abstract. It was a unique soulbond, one that Google wasn’t giving him any answers on. 

Harley opened his eyes once again to look back out at Manhattan. He took his hand from his neck, placing both hands in the pockets of his hoodie and pursing his lips.

The bond felt stronger now that Harley was in New York. He couldn’t help but wonder if distance had something to do with it. If it did, maybe that meant he was closer to finding his soulmate.

He felt a tentative brush against his cheek, and Harley quickly cupped his own cheek and leaned against his hand. His soulmate got the message and he soon felt something like a thumb stroking his cheek. The little things like this had become more and more common. Harley was an affectionate person, and he thrived in this. The casual touches, the comforting hugs, fingers curled around wrists. 

He wouldn’t give it up for anything.

“Hey kid, go unpack.” Harley was jarred out of his thoughts as Tony clasped a hand on his shoulder, having snuck up behind him. “Dum-E doesn’t do organizing so that’s on you.”

“Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist and you can’t even make a robot to help unpack, old man?” Harley grinned.

“My playboy days are over, thank you very much. And for that ‘old man’ comment I’m not letting you in the lab until Wednesday.”

Harley mock-gasped, “That’s manipulation!”

Tony shook his head as he walks backwards away from Harley. “More like a delivery on an unsaid threat since _you_ don’t have the chance to redeem yourself. Now beat it before Happy gets here for dinner. He’s already dealt with one smart-ass teen today, I doubt he wants to deal with another.”

Just as Harley was about to exit the room, he paused and looked at Tony with a questioning eye. “What smart-ass teen?”

Tony already had his eyes glued to his phone, fingers tapping across the keyboard, most likely sending a text to either Happy, Pepper, or Rhodey. “Just my intern,” Tony waved a hand nonchalantly, “he’s going to Midtown with you. Sophomore. Smart kid. Happy drives him around sometimes. He won’t admit it but Peter’s growing on him.”

This was the first Harley’d heard of Tony having a high school intern. ‘Peter’ must’ve been smart.

Harley pouted, “You replaced me?” he whined.

Tony looked up from his phone, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nope, no no no, we’re not doing this guilt tripping thing again. You’re guilt tripping me again.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“Leave it alone, kid. I still met you first.” He ruffled Harley’s hair, then brushed past him and continued down the hallway.

Harley narrowed his eyes slightly at Tony’s retreating figure. 

He wandered through the maze of halls, eventually coming across his room. His single suitcase was already at the foot of his bed, still closed. The room was barren. The only furniture was a queen-sized bed and a dresser with a chair. He knew Tony made the promised to buy him anything that’d make the room feel more like _home_ , but right now Harley could only think about his intern.

His phone began to buzz, and Harley was grateful for the distraction when he saw that Abbie was the one calling. He opened the video chat, not hesitating to greet her.

“Hey squirt.”

“‘Sup, nerd. Mom’s at the diner and I’m lonely.”

“You’re the one who chased me away,” Harley pointed out.

“Oi, you’re not allowed to point that stuff out,” Abbie pouted, “you better send souvenirs. And pictures, mom wants pictures. And she won’t ask you but she wants a new guitar. You should get her a new guitar. You should get _me_ a guitar—”

Harley rolled his eyes. “You’ve gone from souvenirs to exploiting the billionaire I live with.”

“He ain’t giving you an allowance?”

“I’m not asking for an allowance upfront. Like I gotta work my way up to that. I’m not stupid.”

Abbie grinned. “If you were, that STEM school would’ve rejected you. I’d say you’re pretty street smart too though.”

He paused. “Ironic considering Rose Hill doesn’t have many streets.”

“It’s an expression.”

“No shit.”

“I’m telling mom you said that to me.”

“Rude.”

Abbie laughed, then she froze and her eyes shot to something offscreen. Harley was confused for a moment, and then he felt a sort of happiness for his sister when he realized that she was most likely looking at her pinkie.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “Somethin’ going on with the string?”

Her eyes lit up and she nodded, “It’s not pointing up anymore! It’s going flat…east I think!”

Abbie had been born with a red string around her pinkie, something only she could see. Not an uncommon bond. A useful one, in Harley’s opinion. Surely she’d have a better time finding her soulmate than Harley would.

The fact that her string was no longer pointing straight up meant that her soulmate was close. Harley was happy for her, truly.

It just made him a bit more sad that he still had to wait.

“Five bucks says I find my soulmate first,” Harley smirked.

Abbie gave the signature Keener grin. “Bet.”

“You better get outta Rose Hill then. If you wanna find them.”

“You got out before I did. Think they’re close?”

Harley thought about it for a moment. “It feels _stronger_ ,” he settled on, “but I’ve got bigger problems than my soulmate right now.”

“What could be bigger than _that_?”

“Tony has an intern.” Harley squirmed a bit. “His name’s Peter and he’s going to the same school as me. He sounds cool but I’m not letting him take my place.”

Abbie wrinkled her nose. “I thought I was Tony’s favorite?”

“Right now I think his favorite is Dum-E, actually, but like I at least gotta rank higher than Peter right?”

“Have you met him?”

“No,” Harley paused, “I guess I’ll meet him on Monday at school. Unless he comes to the tower beforehand. I don’t know what an intern’s schedule is like.”

Abbie blew her hair out of her face. She looked like she was toying with a question in her head, then she spoke. “Is this an actual joke or something you’re taking seriously that you’re playing off as a joke?”

She knew him too well. Harley frowned, unsure of how to answer. “I don’t think it’s serious…now at least. I gotta see how Tony actually feels, right?” Right _now_ it was a joke, but Harley wasn’t sure if that would last. He wasn’t the type to be jealous of someone he’d never met, but he also wouldn’t put it past himself to look for the negatives in a situation before looking on the bright side.

If Tony and Peter really were close, Harley only hoped that Peter was an easy person to hate.

“You gotta get to bed,” Harley said, “it’s late. Mom’ll be angry if you’re still up when she gets home.”

“It’s only seven!”

“By the time you get off your phone it’ll be time to sleep.”

Abbie had no rebuttal, sighing loudly. “You win. Night, Harls. Love ya.”

Harley taped the screen once. “Love you too, squirt.” The call ended, and Harley let his sore arm fall to his side. He took a long look around the room. Somehow, it felt emptier than before.

Exhausted from the plane ride and his earlier excitement, Harley only lazily brushed his teeth (and would’ve skipped flossing if FRIDAY hadn’t scolded him) and nearly fell into bed still in his jeans (also something FRIDAY scolded him about) before he actually looked through his suitcase for pajamas. He shoved the suitcase off the bed, not paying attention to the now scattered clothes on the floor.

He scrolled through Instagram, watched Netflix, and did some reading on gamma radiation until it was nearly midnight. Still not all that sleepy, Harley popped open his phone case and took out the piece of paper that he’d hidden inside.

A list. His eyes glazed over it, already knowing it by heart. He smiled faintly to himself as he re-read the last point.

**6) and we’ll be happy.**

This was why Harley had been so willing to leave Rose Hill. This was why he didn’t let himself shut down after his dad walked out the door and didn’t return. This was why he was able to see Abbie’s joy at the possibility of meeting her soulmate and be _happy_ for her.

And that reason was the same feeling that he felt now, the same feeling his soulmate sent back along with a phantom hug that he’d fallen asleep to almost every night since he was a child, eyes still filled with wonder and innocence.

_Hope._

Harley tucked the paper under his pillow, pulling the blanket around himself and turning onto his side.

Something pressed against his forehead, and Harley could almost picture a head bowed against his, warm breath tickling his lips, eyes meeting his in the darkness of the room.

He closed his eyes, falling into the feeling.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new Far From Home trailer deadass fueled this entire thing, that and coffee
> 
> If Harley's thoughts seem jumbled, that's because my own interpretation of Harley is a complex one. His movies and goals will become more and more clear as the story progresses, but for now he's a bit of a mystery. It'll all make sense I swear

Harley woke up early on a Sunday morning, so already his day was going bad. It took him nearly half an hour to drag himself up and out of bed. A quick glance at the clock told him it was six forty-two.

Yup, already a shitty day.

He reluctantly trudged out of his room and through to the kitchen. The first time he tried to hoist himself onto the tall stool at the island, he fell right onto the floor. Harley blinked, muttering a very delayed “Ouch” before standing and trying again. It wasn’t that the stools were that _tall_ , Harley was just unable to function before eight thirty. His muscles screamed in protest at the mere prospect of being out of bed. But his mind screamed even louder that the room had been _too quiet_ and _too cold_ and _too far away._

Time passed in a haze as Harley sat there at the island. He didn’t look at a clock, opting to stare at the polished quartz in a daze. He didn’t even notice when Tony entered and sat next to him, a coffee mug in hand. In his t-shirt and sweatpants, you wouldn’t be able to tell he was a billionaire superhero.

They sat in a comfortable silence. Somewhere in the middle of it, Harley realized that his soulmate was hugging themself, which meant they were hugging _him._ It brought a smile to his face, and he returned the gesture.

Tony said nothing. They’d never talked about Harley’s soulbond, but Harley figured that Tony either already had it figured out or he respected Harley’s silence.

Glancing over at Tony, he noticed that for once, his wrist was bare. His soulmark was in the same place that Harley’s mom had her own. It was a jarring fact, something that had taken Harley some time to grow accustomed to. But rather than initials tattooed onto his skin, the mark on Tony’s wrist was a simple design of thorns wrapped around his wrist in the fashion of a bracelet. 

Growing up, he’d read hundreds of articles about the people who’d try to uncover what Tony hid behind bands and bracelets, hoping it’d match their own mark. Tattoos were the most common soulmark. For all the extraordinary Tony Stark had done, had been, his soulmark was in a tragically common place. No two pairs of tattoos were the same, of course. But wrists were common. Common enough that the tight security around him in his youth had been to protect his hands from those who would claw his bracelets off or yank the cuffs of his sleeves upward, rather than to protect his life.

Harley remembered one of Tony’s anxiety attacks, when his first instinct had been to rub at the irritated skin under the thick, black, leather cuff enclosing his wrist. He remembered the first time he’d been in a room with Tony and Pepper, and how Pepper kept her wrist against Tony’s when Ross called. He remembered Tony’s blood seeping from his knuckles when he’d punched a photo of Howard Stark and tiny glass shards cut his skin, the blood trickling down his fingers all the way to the thorns on his wrist.

Who was he to blame Tony for it, though? How many times had Harley done the same to the framed photos of his own dad?

 _“Dads suck,”_ Harley had said, that day.

 _“Mine didn’t,”_ Tony had replied, _“he wasn’t around enough to suck.”_

Now, Harley sighed at the coffee mug that he now realizes is near empty and already cold. “Couldn’t go back to sleep?”

Tony hummed, pushing the mug away. “Never slept in the first place.”

“I’m gonna tell Pepper.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Harley shrugged. “Jet lag.”

“We’re in the same time zone as Rose Hill, kid.”

It brought a smile to Harley’s face, and he swung around in his stool so that he was leaning his back against the island counter. “Got my schedule for school? I should know what to expect for tomorrow.” Changing the topic was easy. Figuring out why Tony was upset was harder.

Tony nodded, signaling something to seemingly nothing before Harley’s phone pinged with a photo from FRIDAY.

“Thanks,” Harley said, opening his phone to look. He slowed down, looking back at Tony. “Any reason you’re slower than a corpse this fine morning?”

Tony grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Underoos nearly gave me a heart attack last night, is all.”

“Underoos?”

“Spiderman.” At that, Harley raised an eyebrow. Taking the hint, Tony continued, “He decided it would be a good idea to break curfew _and_ follow some crime to Brooklyn _in the same night_ without telling me first.”

Harley snorted. “Spiderman has a curfew?”

“And he’ll _continue_ to have a curfew until he stops pulling shit like this. Either that or until he graduates.”

“High school or college?”

“I’m not falling for that.”

“Aw. Worth a try.”

Tony huffed, standing and walking to the coffee maker. “Make sure to eat something decent for breakfast. Peter’s coming over later.”

Harley froze, “Your intern?”

“Yeah, the kid typically comes over on the weekends. You can nerd-out with him or whatever, I won’t be with you two for too long once he gets here. Pep and I are going out tonight.”

Harley barely listened to anything past the initial confirmation that _Peter_ would be here later. Harley’s first full day in New York, and he’d be meeting a boy he’d only just heard of yesterday who was apparently pretty close to Tony.

(A selfish part of him wondered if Tony had told Peter about _him_. But given the Accords, Spiderman’s recruitment, and his new engagement with Pepper, Harley didn’t blame Tony for not prioritizing two random teen boys who he happened to know.)

Harley sighed to himself in realization.

_Jealousy._

Oh. That was why he was in a sour mood. He was jealous of someone he’d never even met.

Harley frowned, shoulders slumping. He had to get breakfast anyways. He’d worry about the mysterious ‘Peter’ later.

* * *

He didn’t get a chance to later worry about the mysterious ‘Peter’, because at nine o’clock on the dot, FRIDAY was alerting Tony of his arrival.

Harley was in the living room at the time, and he didn’t hesitate to bolt the entire distance to his room once Peter showed up. He got away without having to cross Peter’s path, and proceeded to hide out in his room.

_‘Pull yourself together, Keener.’_

The unfortunate part of all this was that Harley’s groggy mood had gone away. That only meant that he was fully awake and time was passing a lot slower now rather than minutes blending together in a haze.

Harley looked at the clock. Ten twenty-two. Fucking hell.

He was bored. A bored Harley usually didn’t mean anything good.

Two minutes passed before he snapped, grabbing his skateboard and throwing the door open. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through memes as he skateboarded down the hall.

_‘Am I gonna regret leaving my room? Yeah, probably.’_

As he passed by the lab, Harley slowed as he looked through the glass. He plastered his signature smirk on his face, curving into the lab through the open door. “‘Sup old man,” he called out, sending a quick meme to the group chat he still shared with his friends back in Rose Hill. He looked up, eyes registering the teen boy sitting in Tony’s usual seat.

The first thing Harley noticed were his eyes. Not in the cliche observing-his-eye-color way, but rather because of the safety goggles he was wearing. He was in the process of pouring the contents of a test tube into a beaker. As he noticed Harley enter, he put the test tube onto a rack and removed one of his gloves, eyes a tad wider than they’d been before. Then he pulled off his safety goggles, the action of which ruffled his hair.

Harley hoped he didn’t look flustered as he felt because _holy shit he’s cute if this is Peter I’m doomed—_

“Oh, you must be Harley! I’m Peter.”

_—fuck._

Peter was smiling at Harley. “Mr. Stark told me all about you!”

Harley ignored the flutter in his heart at Peter’s smile. Damn it, he was supposed to dislike Peter. This was already not going according to plan. Of course, Harley’s ‘plan’ was only due to the fact that he was _petty_ when it came to Tony. He’d been that way when Tony met Abbie. He was that way _now._ Maybe it had something to do with the abandonment issues his dad had instilled in him.

Now he was petty and jealous of Peter, who really didn’t deserve it. Harley really needed to reevaluate his priorities. 

He nodded his head in acknowledgment of Peter’s greeting, “Hey,” he replied. He approached the lab table. “Wish I could say the same,” he said bluntly. 

Peter’s smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing a bit. “Huh?”

Harley shrugged. “I didn’t know Stark Industries hired high school interns.”

“I’m a bit of an exception,” Peter said carefully. It didn’t sound like he was bragging. Harley highly doubted he was. It was a fact, and that somehow only served to make Harley more unsettled. “You’re, uh, going to Midtown?”

He nodded, “Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “Not many STEM schools back home.” He plopped down on the stool across from Peter, picking up a test tube. “What’s this stuff?”

Panic flashed in Peter’s eyes, “You should wear gloves, that’s highly acidic—”

“Methanol, I know.” Harley put it back on the rack. “What are you making?”

“Could you maybe like, be more careful?”

Harley rolled his eyes. “Nothing bad happened.”

“Famous last words.”

“My last words would be a lot cooler than that, I mean come on.”

Peter didn’t seem amused. His smile had completely faded, replaced with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “It’s just that this lab is Mr. Stark’s, y’know?”

Harley wrinkled his nose, “Well you sure got a stick up your ass.”

Peter’s eye twitched. “I’m just _grateful._ Mr. Stark said you were cool, not an irresponsible asshole.”

“I live life, that’s all.” Did Harley really dislike Peter? No. Actually, Harley kinda liked him. He was clearly someone who cared about Tony enough to be protective of his equipment. He was also someone who cared about a stranger’s safety.

But Harley was nothing if not that dirty word: _petty._

Harley was good at riling people up. He’d seen what made Peter tick. Tony. Rules. So he latched onto it. “I never imagined Tony would pick such an uptight intern.”

Peter ignored him, going back to his project. Harley internally celebrated his victory and was exiting the lab when he heard, “And here I thought you were smart.”

He spun on his heel, glaring at Peter. “I _am._ Just not _overly_ cautious.”

Peter clicked his tongue, “Mechanics,” he muttered.

“Chemists,” Harley sneered, crossing his arms. 

“I’m a _physicist._ ”

“Oh _god_ that’s even worse.” For all his snark, Harley felt uneasy when Peter called him a mechanic. It meant a lot of things, including that Tony _did_ in fact tell Peter about him. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

But another part of Harley was happy that Peter had a bit of snark in him too. He could work with that. Peter was a puzzle that Harley wanted to dissect and examine. He wanted to learn everything he could and then some.

He wanted to know what made him so _special._

* * *

In the end, Harley didn’t leave the lab. He ended up sitting away from Peter, tinkering with his phone and a tiny solar panel. Peter continued mixing his chemicals. Eventually, Harley glanced over and made a noise of acknowledgement. “Is that…?”

Peter grinned victoriously as he pulled the stir rod up and a tethers of white stuck to it. “Spiderman’s web fluid.”

“You get to work on stuff like _that?”_

“He’s got a lot of stuff to do,” Peter pointed out, “so this helps ease the workload.” His eyes met Harley’s. “Mr. Stark tell you who he is?”

Harley bristled, “You know?”

“Not really.”

Harley turned back to his project, mumbling to himself. He was less and less sure about where he and Peter stood in regards to Tony. But Peter clearly held no desire to socialize with Harley. Yet another thing he didn’t know how to feel about.

Tony wanted them to get along. Harley was just stubborn.

He stared at the tools around him as if they’d start assembling themselves, but no such luck. Harley rested his hand against the table, not even noticing that he was gripping it tightly enough to leave an imprint on his skin.

There was the present feeling of a silent question from his soulmate. Concern. 

Harley loosened his grip and took a deep breath, reassuring both himself and his soulmate. No need to trouble them. This was his own issue.

Finally, he finished the solar phone charger he’d been working on. He picked up his phone and checked the battery. “I’m gonna go test this out.”

Peter said nothing, eyes glued to the paper he was writing something onto. He did, however, wave his hand the same way Tony did. The tiny similarities were more eerie than the major ones. Harley briefly wondered if Peter was Tony’s long-lost son, but he was pretty sure the press would’ve figured it out before _Peter and Tony_ did.

Harley made his way to the living room to get some sun for his charger. He didn’t once look back at Peter.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd give an excuse for the long wait.......but tbh I've just been really tired. My dog got neutered, does that count as an excuse???

He’d been reading up on fluid dynamics when his soulmate bond was hit with full-fledged panic, and for a good moment there, dread built up in Harley’s stomach.

Then, of course, he felt burnt skin at the roof of his mouth, and he realized that his soulmate had just eaten something _way_ too hot. He laughed a bit to himself, and let his soulmate know that he was also a little irked because now _Harley_ was stuck with the feeling.

His soulmate felt a little sheepish. Harley fondly smiled, patting his own shoulder in a sort of mocking comfort.

An emotion rushed over him that could only be described as a phantom _“Fuck you,”_ and Harley couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“What’s so funny?” a voice spoke from behind him. Harley looked over his shoulder from his spot on the couch to see Peter standing there with a raised eyebrow. There was a laptop tucked under his arm, and an earbud hanging from his ear. He was placing a mug on the coffee table.

“My soulmate,” Harley said bitterly, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “What’s it to you?”

“You don’t have a tattoo soulmark?” Peter asked, ignoring Harley’s last question.

“No. Do you?”

“Nah.”

“Huh. What are the odds.” Harley chuckled. “I’d bet good money that my soulmate’s better than yours.”

Peter stared at him for a moment. The corner of his lips twitched (not that Harley was looking at his lips, of course), and he scoffed. “And _I’d_ bet internship that you haven’t even _met_ them.”

“Ouch. That hurt.”

“Not as much as burning your hand would’ve, I’m sure.” 

Harley grinned, “Still not over that, are you?” He looked Peter up and down, smirking slightly to himself. Peter was cute. _Very_ cute. And Harley was weak for cute boys. A spark of irritation and jealousy flashed from his soulmate, and Harley sent a quick feeling of apology and amusement.

In front of him, Peter looked _very_ displeased. “There are rules in the lab for a reason.”

“Tony does more dangerous shit in his lab than not wearing gloves.”

“You’re not Mr. Stark.”

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but Peter’s words rubbed Harley the wrong way. It wasn’t rocket science. Harley wasn’t Tony, _no one_ could ever be Tony. Even without the suit, Tony had always been extraordinary. Harley was just Harley. No one could ever be Tony, not even him.

A voice in the back of his head told him that Peter was just concerned. And it made sense. Peter just didn’t want Harley to accidentally hurt himself. He didn’t mean that Harley wasn’t capable.

_You’re not Mr. Stark._

By the time Harley got out of his own head, Peter was already leaving, asking FRIDAY to let Tony know that he was heading home.

Harley remained frozen on the couch for a little while, then he lay down across the length of the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, pondering everything. He brought his arms against his chest, running his fingertips along his collarbone as he sought comfort from his soulmate.

A phantom voice in his mind told him to stop undermining himself. It was an exasperated emotion, an exchange of sentiments that they’d shared a thousand times. 

An emotion flooded over him that could only be described as _pull yourself together_ , though the doubt that came with it made Harley wonder if that was a message to him or a reassurance his soulmate gave themselves.

He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and proceeded to fall asleep right there on the couch.

* * *

Peter ends up showing him around, because _of course he does._

Midtown was an amazing school. It was a lot bigger than his school back in Rose Hill. The halls were more crowded, the lockers were halved, and the kids were almost all carrying projects and books.

He overheard two students debating stem cell research, and Harley thought that he might just fit in more easily than he thought.

“—And over here is the library, I think Ned’s in there right now,” Peter peered through the window that showed a library that in all honestly wasn’t too extraordinary, filled with books and sleep deprived kids. Most school libraries probably looked like that, this one just had more double helix models.

“Who’s Ned?” Harley asked.

“My best friend, duh. He’s on the decathlon team with me.”

“You’re on the _decathlon_ team?”

“Used to do robotics too,” Peter informed, “I’m a nerd and a loser, I get it, it’s not news to me.” He seemed to rush through the sentence, as if this were something he was used to.

Harley was still a jealous little shit, but he frowned at Peter’s words. “You’re talking to the kid who’s made twenty-four versions of a potato gun, I think we’re all nerds here.” He paused, smirking at Peter. “I’m _certainly_ not a loser, though.”

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Ha ha,” he muttered sarcastically. Part of him looked entertained, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

They walked in silence for a little bit before Harley pondered, “Why’d you quit robotics?”

There was a pause, then Peter spoke. “Stark internship. Who _wouldn’t_ pass that up. He’s like my childhood hero, y’know?”

Harley supposed that any kid would turn down robotics for a chance to work with _Tony Stark_. He hummed in acknowledgement, then spared Peter an incredulous glance. “How did you land the internship? I thought you had to be eighteen to get a job at Stark Industries.”

“I applied as a dare. Somehow Mr. Stark saw my application and made an exception. Still not sure _why_. I’m glad he did, though.”

A believable enough story, but Harley felt something off with it. It sounded more like Peter was reciting something he had memorized rather than recalling the actual events of it.

But he had the internship, Harley knew that for sure. He supposed that it didn’t really matter. 

That’s what he told himself, at least.

Peter changed the subject. “So yesterday, when you were laughing and you mentioned your soulmate…”

“Yeah?”

“What exactly _is_ your soulmate bond?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Um...yeah? That’s why I _asked_.”

Harley winked at Peter, and Peter glared at him. While Harley loved being a little shit, explaining his soulbond was always exhausting. Not many people understood it. It had taken Harley _years_ to understand it himself. 

He wondered what Peter’s was. He already knew it wasn’t a tattoo. There were several types of others. Maybe they shared scars. Maybe it was the red string, like Abbie. Maybe they could communicate telepathically.

(A friend of his back home had that one. It was super cool, but according to her, also so annoying when her soulmate kept asking for help on a physics test or when they were listening to ‘Cotton Eyed Joe’ on repeat for hours.

It was also frightening when her soulmate had apparently undergone surgery and her head had felt so _silent_. Harley could only imagine what it was like to lose that. His soulmate sometimes blocked themselves off, but Harley always felt _something_. There was always a presence in the back of his head, the familiar feeling that’s grown through him and only expanded with time. He knows his soulmate in a way no one else does. He couldn’t imagine losing that, even if only for a few hours.)

A bell rang, and Peter’s eyes widened. “Shit, that’s the warning bell, do you know where your first class is?”

Harley nodded, “I’ll be fine, I got this.”

Peter nodded, then in perfect sync, the two turned the exact same direction and began walking. Peter looked at him curiously. “What... _is_ your first class?”

“Physics with Mrs. Warren,” Harley told him, an uneasy feeling creeping up on him.

“Same here,” Peter cautiously replied. 

Harley sighed, and the two continued off to class.

* * *

He found out from a boy named Flash that Peter had also been in marching band. Of _course_ he had been in marching band.

* * *

Pretty soon, Harley figured something out: all the teachers loved Peter.

He was smart, nice, and not a show-off like Flash. Of course he wasn’t the perfect student, he and Ned sometimes giggled too loudly and Mr. Harrington caught Peter editing Darth Vader’s wikia page during class, but overall he was a _good_ student. 

He got lost in his head sometimes, Harley couldn’t blame him for it.

During English, Harley ended up sitting next to a girl named Michelle. Not one person commented as she took out a copy of _Of Human Bondage _and stopped paying attention to the lesson.__

They hadn’t spoken one word to each other, but Harley decided that he liked her. 

__

Lunchtime came. Harley took one look around the busy lunchroom and shrugged before sitting next to Peter. The table was almost empty, save for Peter, Ned, and Michelle (who sat a few seats away from them). 

Harley liked Ned. Ned was nice, cool, and sided with Tony on the Accords. The perfect person, in Harley’s opinion. 

He had a free period when Peter had decathlon, so he decided to watch rather than go to the library. Peter answered every question except for one correctly, Flash answered _only one_ question correctly. Harley didn’t like Flash all that much. He was obviously intelligent, he just always tried to be first. Maybe that’s where the nickname came from. 

As practice went on, Michelle going through various flash cards and working the team members brutally until their brains had been thoroughly exploited, Flash’s irritation towards Peter seemed to only get stronger. Harley narrowed his eyes when Mr. Harrington had to scold Flash a fourth time for ‘ruining team moral’. 

Harley made a note to talk to Tony about this Flash kid. Then he proceeded to ignore it for the rest of practice. 

He was checking off homework assignments and making notes of what chem chapters to catch up on when there was a feeling of unease and mild discomfort from his soulmate. Harley frowned and put his pen down, moving to rub his thumb along his index finger. 

A feeling of thanks washed over him, and Harley relaxed as his soulmate did. He laced his pinkies together, pressing his intertwined fingers to his lips in a kiss. He snickered lightly when he felt his cheeks warm up. His soulmate was blushing. 

It was easy to hold back his laugh, but the amusement wasn’t held back so easily. He felt a slight pinch on his upper arm, and Harley considered that a success in cheering his soulmate up. 

“Hey new guy,” a voice called out from somewhere ahead of him. Harley looked up to see Michelle staring at him blankly. “Bell just rang, get moving.” 

“Thanks,” Harley yelled back, but she was already leaving. Peter was at her side, and the two were falling back into a conversation. 

Peter didn’t spare Harley a single glance. 

* * *

Happy was the one to pick them up after school. He was a bit upset that Tony wasn’t able to make it, but Pepper had apparently dragged him to a meeting, and Harley knew that she was seldom able to catch a break. 

The traffic was terrible, Happy was grumpy, and Peter had taken the seat behind Happy, which was Harley’s favorite spot after shotgun. Which, of course, was unavailable because Happy didn’t want either of them sitting next to him. 

Which of course all meant that Harley was irritated, and constantly tapping his nail against the car door. 

After a few minutes, Peter finally snapped. “Could you stop the tapping?” 

Harley looked Peter right in the eye and tapped once, _especially_ loudly. 

“Could you be anymore annoying?” Harley grinned at Peter’s frustration, and just as he opened his mouth to respond, Peter interjected, “That’s a rhetorical question.” 

“Wow. Such big words.” 

“You take Honors English, Harley.” 

“That’s precisely why I used sarcasm, _Peter_.” 

Peter’s glare was like ice, “Your soulmate is sure lucky to have you, huh?” 

A bitter chuckled ripped its way up Harley’s throat. “So you _do_ get sarcasm? At least your poor soulmate won’t have to deal with saying everything literally.” 

“My soulmate won’t have to _deal_ with anything about me.” 

“Must be a patient saint then,” Harley replied dryly. 

“Just like yours.” 

“My soulmate is _the best_ , thank you very much.” 

Peter had the gall to look offended, “ _My_ soulmate is obviously better.” 

_“Excuse me?”_

“You haven’t even _met_ your soulmate!” 

“So? That doesn’t mean you can trash my soulmate’s honor!” 

Happy raised the partition between the front seat and the back. Neither of them really noticed. 

“My soulmate’s better!” 

“No, mine is!” 

“ _Mine_ is!” 

“Happy!” Harley yelled, pressing the button that turned on the speaker so that Happy could hear him, “Tell Peter that my soulmate’s better than his!” 

Happy muted the system. 


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I most definitely did not proof-read this chapter, so apologies for any typos you see
> 
> Also asadfjdskhshdlfjdksh your comments are all so sweet and nice and amazing and thank you all so much for supporting me and this story!! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter~!!

Two weeks went by. Harley and Peter still weren’t getting along. If anything, things had gotten _worse_.

On day five of knowing each other, Harley goaded Peter into a competition to see who could hack FRIDAY faster. Peter won, unfortunately. The next day, they both tried to add lasers to one of Tony’s cars. Harley won that time. Then they competed to make light sabers.

Tony had an intervention when they nearly took off Rhodey’s arm in the process. 

“You, no lab for a week and I’m taking away your car until mine is _laser free_ ,” Tony scolded, pointing to Harley. He turned to Peter, voice stern as he said, “And you, kid, are _grounded_.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wait, Mr. Stark—”

“Grounded. No ands, ifs, or buts. One week, I think you can survive that.”

“Mr. Stark—”

“I don’t need my best friend to lose anymore limbs, thank you very much. One week, both of you. Keep protesting and I’ll have to keep you both grounded until you learn to get along. You’re both geniuses but somehow you’re also both _so stupid_.”

His soulmate was trying to calm him down, but he pushed the feeling to the back of his mine. Harley crossed his arms. “It wasn’t that bad!”

“You’ve done nothing but deadly things in the past three days!”

“Hacking FRIDAY wasn’t deadly.”

Tony froze. “You _what?”_

Suddenly, his soulmate blocked the bond off. _Great_ , Harley thought, _there goes my impulse control_. Harley pointed to Peter immediately, “Technically only he succeeded.”

Tony’s head snapped to Peter.

Peter stood from his seat on the couch, “It was Harley’s idea! So were the lasers!”

Harley stood also, “It was his idea to put them on the Audi!”

“Only because that’s the car he lets me use! _You_ wanted to put it on Happy’s car!”

Tony looked like he’d aged ten years within the past few minutes. He sighed loudly, rubbing his temples. “Normal teenagers...couldn’t I just have _normal_ teenagers?”

“Does that mean we’re your kids?” Harley pipped. 

At that, Peter turned and all but bolted from the room. Harley watched him leave, suddenly feeling a little bit uncomfortable. He felt Tony’s eyes boring into the back of his skull. It made him hesitant to turn around.

But he did.

“You should…” Harley trailed off almost the second he started, unsure of how to phrase it, “you should lay off on Peter. We all know that I’m the one who started it.”

Something flickered in Tony’s eyes. Before Harley could pinpoint it, Tony spoke. “Now _that_ is very mature of you to tell me. But the punishment still stands, for _both_ of you.”

“Tony—”

“Your mom would have my head if anything happened to you, you know that right?” Tony asked, and Harley’s jaw snapped shut. “Abbie too. I’m the one who’d have to tell them. Peter could’ve said no to you. But he didn’t, he let you goad him on and he didn’t tell me. The kid’s gotta learn some responsibility.”

Harley looked away.

“God—first the kid makes me sound like my dad and now you’re doing it too.”

“Not my fault.”

“Your fault.” He paused. “What has you like this? Is it the city? School?”

Harley’s eyes flickered to where Peter walked off to. “No.”

Tony nodded. “Peter, then.” He didn’t give Harley the chance to protest. “Let me guess, you’re jealous of Peter and you’re taking it out on him instead of me?” He grinned when Harley’s eyes widened. “You’re easy to read.”

Harley blinked, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry.”

He hated those two words with a passion. They were overused, overrated, and normally meant absolutely nothing.

Tony drank more of his coffee. “I’m not the one you have to say that to. Go sort yourself out before you turn this ‘dad’ version of me into a full time gig.”

Harley made a mental note to _definitely_ make it a full time gig.

Just before he walked down into the hallway to go find Peter, Harley turned and held back from grinning at Tony. “So I’m not allowed in the lab, right? And I gotta get the lasers off your car?”

“Was I not clear the first time?”

“How am I supposed to get the lasers off without lab equipment?”

Tony blinked once, then frowned, then looked off to the side with a haunted look in his eyes. “You’re taking years from my life, Keener,” he sighed, “ _years_ I tell you.”

* * *

“Peter?” Harley knocked on the door again, groaning to himself when there was, once again, no answer. He tapped his foot impatiently. After three more minutes, he called out, “FRIDAY, Peter’s in his room, right?”

_“Affirmative.”_

“Asshole,” Harley muttered. He glared at the door with utter hatred. The _one_ time he wanted to apologize, he wasn’t even able to. He kicked the door once, then sighed as he leaned on his shoulder against it. “Peter? Look, I— I just wanna say sorry. For what happened with Tony, and all that. I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”

The door slid open very quickly and suddenly, “Oh shit!” and Harley fell forward from where he had leaned on the door and land ever-so-gracefully on the ground. 

Groaning, Harley rolled onto his back and looked up, squinting as Peter appeared looking down at him from where he stood above him, upside-down in Harley’s vision. Peter’s arms were crossed and he looked pretty pissed.

(Harley briefly thought that Peter also looked pretty _when_ he was pissed, but he shook that out of his mind.)

“Thanks for the warning,” Harley spat, shoulder feeling _very_ bruised. He quickly sent a sorry feeling to his soulmate, hoping that the bond was no longer blocked.

It wasn’t. And in return, he received a feeling that could only be described as fond annoyance.

It was one of Harley’s favorite feelings.

“You’re not sorry,” Peter said, no hint of playful banter in his voice. Harley inwardly winced at how it sounded. It wasn’t quite the Peter that he’d grown used to. It was something else entirely. Perhaps he’d stepped too far. “Not to me. You’re just sorry that Tony got mad at you too.”

Harley’s jaw snapped shut.

_Tony. He called him Tony, not Mr. Stark._

He felt a bit rattled by this. Peter was close to Tony, but he never called him by his first name. It was as if Peter tried his best to keep distance between them. Harley had initially chalked it up to a fear of Tony going on a mission and not coming back (a feeling that Harley understood well), but it seemed to go deeper than that.

He’d really fucked up this time. Hell if Harley was going to admit it though. His soulmate seemed irritated, though it was hard to distinguish if they were irritated at _Harley_ or at something else. Harley knew his soulmate well, but it seemed that lately they were both conflicted and uncomfortable far too often. It was becoming harder and harder to tell when one’s irritation ended and when the other’s began.

“I’m not _that_ much of a dick,” Harley muttered, sitting up and rubbing his shoulder. He spun around, still sitting, just now facing Peter. “I said sorry, you don’t have to be an ass about it.”

“I just don’t like liars.”

Rage boiled over in Harley’s stomach. He did his best to suppress the feeling as he spat through grit teeth, “Well ain’t _that_ hypocritical. You lied to me about how you met Tony.”

The tension in the air grew. Peter’s hands clenched into fists as he glared down at where Harley sat in the doorway. “What are you talking about?”

Something in his voice made Harley freeze. There was an undertone of danger, a warning, something that pooled in his heart and told him that one wrong move meant something _very_ bad would happen here.

“I just know you’re lying, somehow,” Harley told him. It was the truth. He knew how to tell when someone was lying. Peter wasn’t a terrible liar, but he wasn’t an excellent one either. And of course there had also been the nagging feeling at the back of his mind. “I can’t explain it, but I just know that you didn’t meet Tony through the internship.”

Peter eyes flickered to look him up and down. He rolled his shoulder, seemingly discomforted. Then he finally asked, “So what?”

Harley rested one of his elbows on his knee, his other arm on the floor behind him, keeping him propped up. “So how _did_ you meet him?”

“That’s none of your business,” Peter said after a pause. 

“I live here, dude.”

“Whatever. I had a room here first.”

“I _knew_ him first.”

“Great,” Peter said dryly, “so an angry kitten’s been following him around for, how many years now?”

Harley snorted. “I’d rather be an angry kitten than a lost puppy.”

“I’d be an _adorable_ puppy.”

Harley really wished that his soulmate wasn’t getting more and more distant as his conversation with Peter continued. He assumed it was the nerves. His soulmate knew when Harley needed space.

Of course, even if Harley needed space at the moment, it didn’t necessarily mean that he _wanted_ it.

“You didn’t answer me,” Harley pointed out. “How did you _really_ meet him?”

Peter was silent for a moment, then he closed his eyes. It looked as though he was containing his anger.

Harley frowned. “Peter?” He leaned forward to nudge Peter’s shoe. Just as his fingertips met worn laces, a foot suddenly collided with his chest and pushed him back down to the floor. Harley winced as Peter stared at him with wide eyes.

“Shit—are you okay?” Concern shone clear through Peter’s voice. He reached forward as if to help Harley, but then recoiled and curled in on himself. Harley frowned at the sight.

“It’s okay dude,” Harley huffed, brushing his hoodie off. “I mean, it’s not like it hurt or anything. You’re a lot stronger than you look, is all.”

Something flashed through Peter’s eyes. He looked at Harley, then swiftly stepped around him and past him.

Harley turned his head, eyes following Peter. “Peter?”

“Tell him I left,” Peter yelled over his shoulder, voice dripping with a mix of irritation and fear.

Harley stayed there on the floor for a few seconds, still catching his breath.

He was angry at Peter (not for the kick, of course, it seemed more reflexive than delivered with intent to hurt) but he guessed that it was his own fault that Peter was angry at _him._

Desperately, he reached out to his soulmate for some guidance, comfort, reassurance. The bond wasn’t blocked off, but it was weak. He pushed some of his feelings through. After a moment, a wave of understanding washed over him.

Harley breathed a sigh of relief. He stood and took a step away from Peter’s room. He watched with a solemn gaze as the door slid shut, then he turned and walked to his room.

Something else shone through the bond just as Harley reached his door. It was a feeling he felt sometimes, something akin to freedom and thrill. Today, there was a bit of frustration sewn into it.

Just as he smiled to himself, a pain spiked in his side. He winced. A second after it had appeared, it cut off suddenly.

Harley braced himself on the doorframe, his smile twisting into a deep frown. 

His soulmate got hurt. His soulmate got hurt. _His soulmate got hurt._

He thought to the multitude of times that his soulmate blocked their bond off. He’d had theories before. In middle school, he’d thought it was because his soulmate didn’t want him. It was no secret that there were some people that shunned the idea of soulmates, people who wanted a choice instead of believing in destiny. But Harley would know if his soulmate was one of those people. He’d _know_. It just meant that there was another reason his soulmate would shut him out.

Remembering the pain in his hip that he’d felt just before the first time his soulmate blocked their bond, Harley frowned. Has this been going on since then? Is someone hurting them? A parent? A bully?

_Please, don’t let it be yourself._

He realized that his soulmate must’ve been stopping Harley from feeling the pain, source of which aside. It hadn’t really been a common occurrence until he was fourteen.

As someone who knew what it meant to be bullied, Harley really hoped that there was some other explanation. But he also didn’t like the alternatives.

Harley knew that he was one of the brightest minds of his generation. He had to be if _Midtown_ accepted him. Yet, he couldn’t figure this out. He was just going in circles, forever trying to finish a puzzle that was missing pieces.

He sank down to the ground, focusing everything in his mind on his soulmate, waiting for the bond to open again. An hour went by, then another. FRIDAY soon alerted him that it was midnight, and that Boss wouldn’t be too happy that he was lying down in the hallway and hadn’t moved in a few hours.

Closing his eyes, he reached out and tugged on the bond that connected he and his soulmate. The feeling of hands covering his in comfort spread through him. But as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and Harley was left alone and locked out once again. 

He tried again. This time he planned to irritate his soulmate until they listened. They didn’t. He tried again, but his soulmate didn’t budge. Feeling dejected, be opened his eyes once more.

The hallway was quiet. Harley sat up after a moment, all hopes that his soulmate would answer him were diminished. He sighed to himself before standing and making his way to the kitchen for a snack.

As he walked, he whispered into the empty hall, “FRIDAY? Where’s Pepper and Tony?”

The AI answered back equally as soft, _“Both are in the infirmary. Would you like me to notify them?”_

Harley paused, confused. “No, it’s fine.” He redirected his path to the staircase. Intent on getting to the infirmary.

The lights remained off as he walked down the stairs and through the hall. He didn’t typically leave the main floor of the penthouse, knowing that the lower levels had belonged to the Avengers before the Compound was built. The infirmary had remained unused ever since.

Harley once asked Tony why he kept the old Avengers facilities in the tower. He never did get a clear answer.

The infirmary entrance was unblocked, allowing Harley to peer around the edge and see Tony sitting on a stool in front of a cot. Pepper stood behind him, arms crossed. It was a bit of a far distance, but Harley could almost make out anger and concern on Tony’s face and a stern, cold look on Pepper’s. Tony was wearing the same clothes he usually wore to the lab, while Pepper was dressed as if she’d just walked out of a business meeting. The sight of the two of them almost fooled Harley into thinking it wasn’t midnight.

Then he saw the figure sitting down on the cot.

_Spiderman._

This was his first time seeing the vigilante up close. Harley’s eyes widened as he looked the hero up and down, taking in the red and blue suit, the spider symbol on his chest, the mask still concealing his identity.

His sight landed on the gaping stab wound in his torso.

Harley’s hand flew to cover his mouth in a gasp. He knew that heroes got hurt, but somehow it was difficult to picture Spiderman injured.

Though, he supposed it made sense. Heroes like Tony and the Avengers got hurt in _war zones_ , fighting aliens, terrorists, and each other. Their injuries were severe burns and cuts from debris and crushed bones. Harley remembered hearing about Tony’s stays in the hospital. He remembered Tony calling him, telling him about Rhodey over the phone, the brief moment that his voice had cracked and Harley’s heart ached. Heroes like that weren’t expected to die—weren’t _allowed_ to die—they had to live to fight another day. 

But Spiderman didn’t fight crime on that scale. His injuries weren’t received in battle. They were received at gunpoint and on the end of a knife. Injuries that were less severe and sometimes just as life-threatening. 

The difference was that Spiderman was the kind of hero that people expected to die for them. They’d never wish it on him, not with him rounding up criminals and lowering the crime rate in Queens. But if it came to a simple question, most would give a simple answer.

_(“The Avengers saved the word,” Harley told Abbie, insistent as ever._

_Abbie rolled her eyes. “Yeah they save good people but here’s the thing about it. They’re saving the murderers too. Bad people get saved when the Avengers do their job. Bad people get to live too.”_

_“Are you saying that we should let go of our heroes?”_

_“No. Just that I get why Spiderman does what he does.”)_

Harley realized Tony was saying something. “—not to go on Patrol, then you disobey me not even an _hour_ after we talked, and get yourself stabbed! May will kill me!”

“Tony,” Pepper interrupted, “we can discuss this later. Let’s focus on the bleeding right now. His healing factor will kick in soon anyways, then we can get back to what to tell May.”

Harley adjusted his angle, now seeing that Tony was in fact sanitizing the wound and was about to bandage it.

No one noticed him, and Harley wasn’t going to take his chances. Just before he moved his head back around the corner, Spiderman looked _right at him._

Harley froze.

Spiderman stared, just _stared_ , for a moment before the eyes of his suit narrowed and Harley’s heart jumped to his throat.

But Spiderman made no attempt to point out Harley’s presence. He just continued to stare until Harley broke their gaze and left the floor altogether.

His mind was racing a million miles an hour.

He knew he wouldn't get much sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Slow Burn' is a tag now and my outline is over 20 chapters, which means these two idiots aren't figuring their feelings out anytime soon. I apologize for the torturous wait you're in for but also tbh I'm not sorry~


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is late, I got no excuses ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This chapter is for SmolTownFangirl (@peachy-keener on Tumblr), thanks for inspiring me to write Spiderlad in the first place!!

Harley had been pacing in the hallway for a few hours now. According to FRIDAY, it was sometime near five in the morning. Which meant that he’d been thinking of a solution all night and he’d be very tired at school.

Peter hadn’t accepted his apology (which Harley hadn’t even really meant in the first place) and who could blame him? Something about Peter just irked Harley to no end. It was drastically changing his judgement, and honestly, Harley was puzzled himself.

He was _sorry_. He really was.

_“You’re just sorry that Tony got mad at you too.”_

Times like these, Harley really wished that his soulmate could communicate with him in ways other than emotions and pain. He could really use some advice right now. It was possible to get a more exact answer that wasn’t emotions-based, but it was a risky one. A few years back, his soulmate had poked something sharp into their palm in a series of dashes and dots—morse code, which Harley luckily knew. The message had been a simple one:

**Emergencies only.**

Harley wondered if this counted as an emergency, because this crisis of his had kept him from sleeping all night.

Then he realized how morbid and senseless that thought was, and pushed it out of his head.

He reached out to his soulmate, pulling through his own muddled thoughts to try and reach them. In return, an irritated snap shoved him away. Harley snickered to himself in the darkness of his room, because the irritation was still playful and Harley just knew that his soulmate was trying to sleep.

He _really_ wished he could relate.

Harley gently rubbed his hands up and down his arms in a soothing manner. In return, he felt a hug surround him, and he smiled as his soulmate sent feelings of apology and comfort.

This was the one time he didn’t care about his disdain for apologies. Where his soulmate was involved, Harley would throw all of his rules out the window.

A twinge of concern tugged at his heart. Harley’s smile froze. It would be impossible to lie. If this were someone standing in front of him, asking if he was okay, he’d assure them and put on a fake smile. But it was a little different when his _soulmate_ , whom he shared a fraction of a headspace with, was the one asking.

Harley sighed to himself and let go of everything he’d held back.

* * *

“So when are you finally gonna ask me if you can join the decathlon team?”

Harley and Michelle were sitting in English, half-heartedly annotating their books, when Michelle asked the question.

Harley mustered a chuckle, “What do you—?”

“Please don’t play dumb with me,” Michelle deadpanned, “that’s what I got Peter and Flash for.”

“They’re both pretty smart—”

“—Still dumbasses. Like you.” Before Harley could protest, she continued. “No offense or anything. You’re new, you’re nerdy, and most of your friends are already on the team. And it’s obvious that under that smart-mouth exterior, you’re an awkward bean who isn’t gonna make the first move. So I’ll rephrase, you in or what?”

Harley looked at her hesitantly, then nodded.

They had to talk to Mr. Harrington, but the process went fairly quickly. Peter shot Harley a glare when he walked in behind Michelle and Mr. Harrington, but other than that he seemed to ignore Harley altogether in favor of talking to Ned.

Factually, he _knew_ that he had to talk to Peter eventually. Did he want to? No. Was he going to avoid it at all costs? Yes.

The chance came towards the end of decathlon practice, after Michelle had worked them all to the bone and picked their heads apart until they’d exhausted all of their knowledge. 

(She was ruthless, but Harley could see that he was already answering questions faster and it was only _day one_.)

Everyone was getting their things together and waiting for the bell. Peter was staring at his flash cards as if they personally offended him, and Harley held back a laugh when he saw Peter flip them off.

“You’ve sure got a temper there, Parker,” Harley said, gesturing to Peter’s flash cards.

Peter glared at him, unphased by Harley’s sudden appearance. “Why so surprised?”

“Tony acts like you’re his golden child. That’s just the impression I got.”

It looked like Peter wanted to say something, but he seemed to settle on something else. “Trust me,” he snorted, “I’m a lot more rebellious than I let on.”

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

Peter put the flash cards in his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder and walking past Harley. “Hey,” he called, turning so that he was walking backwards, “tell Mr. Stark that I’m not coming over today.”

“I’m not your messenger owl,” Harley protested, but then he frowned as Peter’s words sunk in. “Why aren’t you coming?”

“I just don’t feel like it.”

As Peter walked away, Harley sighed to himself and gathered his things. He supposed he only had himself to blame. He’d let his insecurities get the better of him, and now Peter was avoiding Tony because Harley would be nearby.

Harley stood in the doorway for a bit, hesitant to step into the hallway. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, paying close attention to the rise and fall of his chest. There was a light touch on his cheek. Harley smiled, then stepped into the crowd.

* * *

Tony was looking through holograms and projections of what appeared to be a suit for Spiderman. Harley had just walked into the lab after school, immediately shrugging his backpack off his shoulders and onto one of the tables. He sat in the spinnable stool. “Yo.”

He barely received a nod of acknowledgement. Tony was fixated on the designs in front of him. Harley had seen him work before, he knew that when Tony got into something, it was practically impossible to distract him or drag him away.

Harley decided not to get in the way. He stayed at his table and started sketching designs for a potato arc-reactor.

Around six, Pepper walked in. She looked at where Tony had fallen asleep, a fond smile covering her face.

“How long this time?” Harley asked her once he noticed that she was simply standing there and staring at Tony.

“Forty-three hours.” She spoke the numbers without any form of hesitation. She walked forward slowly, softening the click of her heels. Harley saw then that she had a blanket tucked under her arm. Once she reached her soulmate, Pepper unfolded it and covered Tony with it. “He’s a heavy sleeper once he finally sleeps.”

“What got him this time?”

“Rogers was sighted somewhere in Europe. Tony didn’t say where.”

Harley can understand that. He vividly remembers learning about Rhodey, about Siberia, about the Accords. He and Abbie had waited for hours until the call came that Tony was okay.

He understood that Tony was still shaken by the events that happened a year prior. That didn’t make it any easier when things like this happened.

“I thought he was just worried about Spiderman,” Harley muttered, looking through the still open blueprints.

Pepper waved her hand over the holograms, closing them. “That’s part of it,” she spared a small smile at Harley, “he installed heaters in Spider man's suit. And a parachute.”

Harley remembered when he met Tony. “So the things that happened to him don’t happen to Spiderman?”

“Mmhm. He wants the best for those he mentors. That includes you.”

“Is that why he took me from Rose Hill?”

Pepper’s smile was almost sad. There was a haunting look in her eyes, as if she was remembering what followed the introduction of the Accords, as if she was reliving what it meant to know Tony during that time, as if she blamed herself for not being there. It was something she’d let slip, once. That she wished she’d been there for her soulmate.

But Tony never cared, never would. He’d sooner burn the world than blame Pepper for anything.

Despite how long he’d known Tony, Harley had never spent as much time with Pepper as he would’ve liked to. The first time they’d met was after Siberia, when Pepper called him and told him, _“Tony’s okay. Our mark is still here, and as long as it is, he’s okay.”_

But now, looking into her knowing eyes, Harley felt that she knew him better than he knew himself.

“He missed you,” she told him, “I think that’s the only reason he needed. He was always so scared of ending up like his father, so he shied away from you. But I guess Peter showed him that it’s not hard to be good.”

Harley tensed a bit at hearing Peter’s name, but he said nothing.

Pepper noticed anyways. “He really wanted you two to get along.”

“He miscalculated,” Harley grumbled.

A small laugh escaped Pepper, “He rarely ever does. It’s his own doubt that makes him prepare for every possible outcome of an event. When Peter suggested that Tony should bring you here, Tony immediately made dozens of plans for your education. Hell, I think he called MIT that evening.”

Harley froze. He felt concern from his soulmate ball up in his stomach, but he ignored it and looked at Pepper. “No… _Abbie_ suggested that I should go to Midtown.”

The surprise in Pepper’s eyes told Harley that she thought he’d already known. “Actually, Tony was the one who put the idea in her head. He knew she’d want you to go. You were always so _bored_ in Rose Hill.”

“But… _Peter_?”

Harley almost wanted to call Pepper a liar. There was no way that Peter, Peter wanted Harley there. Peter seemed fine before Harley. He’d made that pretty clear during their arguments. Even if he never said it, it was obvious.

It was very hard to believe that Peter was behind Harley’s coming here.

“I thought he was okay having Tony to himself,” Harley expressed his thoughts, eyeing Pepper as she nodded sympathetically.

“He never was,” Pepper’s voice was certain, strong, but there was an edge to it that Harley was uncertain how to address. It reminded Harley of his mom’s own voice when she spoke of her soulmate (Harley had long since stopped calling him ‘dad’). Something sorrowful, yet knowing. “Peter’s not like that. There’s a sort of heavy weight that comes with knowing Tony, especially in the way that you both do. I think he just wanted someone to share it with. Someone who understands.”

Harley thought about his jealousy of Peter, about this new revelation that Peter was indirectly responsible for his being there, about their fights and tense conversations. If Harley were a better person, he’d feel guilty about it. He wanted to feel guilty about it. But he didn’t. 

He could feel his soulmate’s reassurance that he wasn’t a bad person, but it felt numb against the sick feeling in his stomach. This was something not even his soulmate could reassure him of: that his own feelings weren’t being tragically disregarded in favor of a self-loathing that had burned through him since he was a child, once flickering embers growing into a biting flame that engulfed his heart. 

His own insecurities weren’t anything new to him.

Jealousy, however, _was_ a new feeling. There wasn’t much to be jealous of in Rose Hill. The closest thing to jealousy he’d ever felt were the kids who had both parents, but even that wasn’t much considering all the town gossip that went around, assuring Harley that families were messed up all around, and that having both parents didn’t necessarily guarantee that life was perfect.

Then he met Tony. A mentor, a friend, something of a father-figure. He filled the void that his own dad left behind. And just like that, everything was as close to perfect as it ever could be. He had his mom and Abbie. He had his soulmate’s touch and thoughts. He had Tony. Harley liked math, and no equation was more perfect than this one. Nothing fit more perfectly.

Peter Parker was the _one thing_ he hadn’t fit into that equation. He was the one thing that Harley didn’t account for.

Not for the first time, Harley wondered what the hell went on in his head.

Pepper reached up, squeezing Harley’s shoulder lightly. “You should get some rest,” she told him. “Don’t overthink things, okay? He’s not gonna pick between you two.”

Her voice felt muddled in his head, like an audio tape that had been deleted and dug up again.

As the click of Pepper’s heels lulled Harley into that deep space inside his head that promised nothing good, her words replayed in tune with the clicks, just off-beat to the sound of his slowing heart. _He’s not gonna pick between you two._

He wishes he could push his soulmate away now. Block them off like they sometimes did to him. He never blamed them for it, hell, he understood that sometimes, emotions were too high and too personal. It was why they felt so close.

But Harley doesn’t like looking weak. He’d had to be strong since he was younger and Abbie needed someone who wasn’t _broken_ to raise her. The rejection of a soulmate was a scarring tragedy that his mom wouldn’t ever forget until his dad either let go of her or was put six feet under.

Harley could’ve forgiven him for leaving. But he never could forgive not letting go of his mom. It was that sick, twisted, rotten false hope that had her clinging to the notion of his return, that she wouldn’t be alone forever, that he would come back to his family. Harley used to buy into that fantasy as well. He used to tell himself that Abbie would grow up with a father, that his mom wouldn’t sleep in an empty bed, that he could finally tell his dad about the list that Harley kept hidden.

But Harley wasn’t a child anymore. He grew up. He stopped being a child so he could be a good brother and a good son. Harley prided himself on picking up the pieces of his broken family.

So when the chance came to have someone looking after him instead of the other way around, the fire inside him dulled for just a moment, the red-hot fury didn’t feel as terrifying and deadly.

Harley stared long and hard at where Tony remained slumped over the desk.

 _Don’t choose_ , Harley silently begged, _you’ll choose him, so please don’t choose—_

His soulmate threw their arms around him, his neck felt warm as invisible fingers pressed into his pulse and tightened around his shoulders.

He stepped back, eyes quivering. Harley gently pressed his own hand against his throat, wishing he could touch his soulmate’s hand. But dread still lingered in the back of his head.

Because not even his soulmate _chose_ Harley. 

Harley closed his eyes and backed out of the lab. He kept his hand on his throat, afraid to let go of the only thing grounding him. A desperation filled him, a fear that he might lose this without ever fully having it in the first place.

He couldn’t lose this too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: The conversation with Pepper was originally between Harley and Tony. But Tony needs more sleep and Pepper needs more screentime. Rest assured that Tony and Harley will get their heart-to-heart, tho.
> 
> The morse code will be important later on. Whether that's in this fic or the sequel, that's up for debate.
> 
> Harley's thoughts are very contradictory and not the kindest towards Peter, but I tried to keep it as realistic as I possibly could. Things will warm up eventually between them, I promise~


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the past few weeks I've only had like two sentences written, then I wrote the rest of this chapter in one sitting. I'm a mess.
> 
> It's shorter than I would've liked, but I'll try to make the next chapter longer~
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all of your comments!! Pacing and characterization are my biggest fears with this fic, since it's very untraditionally complex. Realism is what I'm striving for here (minus the whole superheroes and soulmates thing), so I'm glad that you guys like it!

When Abbie was seven, she snuck into Harley’s newly remodeled garage and stole his potato gun. Harley chased her around the house to get it back. In the end, he didn’t. Abbie accidentally fired it into his torso, and promptly gave it back once she realized that he’d gotten hurt.

The incident gave Harley severe bruises, and it gave his soulmate a paranoia that Harley was experiencing home troubles. The panic and worry was cute, but it took four months to convince them that everything was okay. What Harley couldn’t get over was the fact that Abbie didn’t feel bad about it. Not until she got scolded by their mom, and inevitably grounded.

Years later, Harley sometimes looked back on that moment as an example of Abbie being a child. Her, teary-eyed, head down as mom crossed her arms and shook her head in disappointment. Harley had been watching from behind the couch, eager to see his menace of a sister get in trouble.

He thought back to the moment she pulled the trigger and launched a potato into his stomach. There had been a moment where he couldn’t breathe. The moment felt numbing, then the pain swept in, and Harley had felt as if his stomach was being torn open.

Right now, he was zooming in on the brief moment between having the wind knocked out of him and the start of the actual pain. The ever so prolonging second when Harley was still registering that Abbie had actually pulled the trigger. 

When he was young, he’d been angry at her. He used to think it was because of the obvious reason: _she shot his fucking stomach with a potato gun._

Now, he thought that maybe the real reason he was angry because she shot him in the first place.

Harley sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, feeling irritated with himself. _‘It’s a fucking potato, why is this bothering me now?’_

Something tapped his forehead. Harley frowned, recognizing it as something emanating through the soulbond. He combed through the emotions twisting in his head, trying to distinguish what was him and what was his soulmate.

Amusement poured into him, his soulmate was _enjoying_ his confusion. Harley hoped that his own emotions sent a very clear message of _‘screw you’._

It was like his soulmate wanted him to figure something out. He had to wonder if this was because it was hard to simply _tell him_ through the bond, or because they had some sort of ulterior motive. If the second one was true, perhaps they didn’t know each other that well after all, because Harley’s brain never worked this early in the morning and surely his soulmate knew that.

How the fuck did they even remember the potato incident?

 _Why_ the fuck did they remember the potato incident?

* * *

“It’s five thirty in the morning, what do you _want_?”

Abbie’s voice was muffled through the phone, and it was so easy for Harley to imagine her face half-buried into the pillow, eyes still closed, her hair so tangled that she’ll have to cut the hair ties with scissors to get her bun undone.

He’d admit it. He was homesick.

But hell if he ever told Abbie that. “I just couldn’t sleep,” he finally said, adjusting his grip on his phone. “Remember Peter?”

“Who?”

“The intern.”

“Oh.” Abbie paused. “Is he cute?”

Harley held back the urge to facepalm. “Abbie—”

Abbie giggled, but it was low-pitched and a bit hoarse since she was still half-asleep. “He getting on your nerves already?” she asked.

He wasn’t too sure how to answer that question. They certainly didn’t get along, but was Peter actually _annoying_? He was like Harley in a lot of ways, but very different in others. It was Harley’s own disconnection from connectivity that kept them from being friends. 

And of course, it was Harley’s own insecurity that kept him from seeing Peter as anything but an evil demon stealing his mentor.

Then again, Harley didn’t see Tony in the same way that Peter did. Harley looked at Tony as someone to guide him, to teach him, to help him stand on his own two feet. Peter looked at Tony the way Harley used to look at his dad. Harley wasn’t sure what Peter’s dad had been like for Peter to depend on Tony that way, but he knew enough to make the distinction.

Harley wanted a friend. Peter wanted a father.

“Yeah,” Harley finally settled on, “but I’m getting on his too. I wanna like him, y’know? But I’m too…”

“Mean?”

Harley huffed. “I prefer ‘unfriendly’.”

Abbie didn’t hold back her punches, even at such an absurd hour. “So you want to be his friend but your head is too far up your own ass to even try?”

Harley paused. “Yeah, basically.”

“Do you want to be his friend because _Tony_ wants you guys to get along, or because you genuinely want to be his friend? Or do you just feel bad and you wanna make it up to him?”

“I don’t know!”

There was a slight ‘woosh’ of air, then Abbie groaned, “You nearly busted my eardrum, dumbass.”

Harley winced, “Sorry.”

There was an intensely long moment that passed before Abbie spoke, “Oh god, this really has you messed up. You _hate_ apologies. Old Harley would’ve called me a weakling.”

“Abbie come on,” Harley pushed through her words, combing through them the way that he picked through his soulmate’s emotions. “I’m _lost_ here, but I’m still me. I just don’t know what I’m doing here, and lately my soulmate is just _so confused_ just like I am, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I can’t tell what’s them and what’s me.”

There’s a moment on the other end of the line where Harley wasn’t sure if Abbie was still awake or if she’d fallen back asleep. Harley tensed, realizing all that he’d just revealed to her.

She realized it too. “Harley,” she begins, softly, soothingly, the same way Harley used to speak to her whenever he had nightmares, “do you think, just maybe, part of your confusion towards Tony’s intern is due to your own confusion to why your soulmate keeps you arms length away?”

Harley grit his teeth, “How could it _possibly_ be connected that way?”

“Think about it. Your soulmate sometimes locks you out and keeps you in the dark. That’s why you hate not knowing what’s going on. Then Tony springs his intern on you, someone who apparently knows about you but you know nothing about. It’s like how your feelings are always available to your soulmate but the same isn’t true the other way around.”

She’s right.

Of course she’s fucking right.

Harley had never been easy to understand, even to himself. He’d tried to close the bond off before, just to see if he could, but he never got that far. His soulmate didn’t hate him, Harley would know if they did. But there were some points where his soulmate was scared enough to hide those emotions away, and Harley didn’t know why. He was afraid to know. He was terrified to know what could drive someone to such fear, such desperation, and it made Harley sick whenever he thought about it too much.

_Who are you protecting? Yourself, or me?_

He stopped trying to hide his heart away. He’d never reached that tipping point that his soulmate was constantly tiptoeing the edge of. 

Then he met Peter.

Peter was infuriating. He was smart, funny, and had Tony wrapped around his finger. He was also crass, hard to read, and could hold a grudge longer than Harley could.

He was like Harley in all of the hauntingly similar ways, and where he wasn’t like Harley, he eerily reminded him of his soulmate.

His ‘feud’ with Peter had gone on long enough. Harley wanted to make things right, but he also didn’t want to do so based on the thought that this was what Tony wanted. Harley wanted to stop hating Peter. He wanted Peter to stop hating him. But at the same time, he just couldn’t bring himself to stop being so…jealous.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” she asked when he didn’t respond.

There was a bit of irritation, anger, and confusion twisting in his stomach. Abbie knew him too well, surely better than he knew himself.

Once more, he went back to that moment when she stole his potato gun. He’d chased her all around the house when he saw it in her hands. She was giggling, having fun with it, thinking of it as a game. At first, he thought that she was just a kid who didn’t understand that potato guns bruised ribs. But kids were smarter than he tended to think of them as. He’d been smart at that age.

She wasn’t smart the way Harley was, and because of that, Harley had a habit of underestimating her.

He wondered why she pulled the trigger. 

He wondered why he still cared.

“Go back to sleep,” Harley finally said into the phone, bringing it away from his ear and moving his thumb to end the call.

“Night,” Abbie muttered, already sounding sleepy again. “I lo—”

Harley cut the call in the middle of the word. He stared wide-eyed at the phone screen, feeling pretty damn bad that he’d cut her off. He hadn’t known she would say anything more. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her presence until that moment.

_Why did you pull the trigger?_

His hand went limp and fell to his side. Harley closed his eyes. On cue, his soulmate’s hug enveloped him, and Harley smiled. He almost felt like everything was okay.

No, everything _was_ okay. For that moment, Harley had nothing else to worry about.

Eventually, the feel of a hug surrounding him faded as his soulmate drifted back into sleep. He traced patterns in his palm, finding comfort in the soft joy that his soulmate had given him. He wished more than anything that he could find them. Harley was tired of being so confused. He was tired of being envious. He was tired of missing Rose Hill when Rose Hill never missed him.

He was just… _tired._

Harley opened his eyes lightly, staring at the sheets pooled at his waist. He looked over the lines and folds and the way the rising sun cast shadows onto the fabric. 

As the sun rose, his soulmate woke up once more. Harley felt a pressure on his shoulders and upper back as if someone was hugging him from behind. But it wasn’t like arms. It was softer, broader, almost like a pillow. Harley stifled a laugh as he imagined his soulmate covering themselves in pillows just to comfort him.

He thanked his soulmate, smiling sadly. His soulmate seemed to always know what he needed. He wished he could be that useful.

There was a tap on his forehead, just like there had been before. Harley rolled his eyes when the memory of the potato gun incident came back to mind, specifically the emotions he’d felt when it happened, and the pain. Once again it was some sort of message. His soulmate was still being as cryptic as ever.

Abbie had talked about him as if he had changed. Though this ‘thing’ about him that was different was his apology, somehow it felt more like one step forward and two steps back. Harley still hated sorries, he hated Rose Hill, and he hated Peter Parker.

Nothing was different, yet everything was.

He thought about Peter, which immediately made him frown. Peter, objectively speaking, wasn’t that bad. If not for the circumstances behind their first meeting, Harley might’ve genuinely sought Peter out to befriend him.

But those circumstances still stood. Peter was still Tony’s intern. Peter was still important in Tony’s life. Peter was still everywhere, at his school, in the Tower, randomly on the street with gummy bears.

And as circumstances stood, Peter wasn’t going away anytime soon.

He’d only tried to _really_ connect with Peter twice before, after Tony grounded them and after Harley’s first decathlon practice (though that had been cut short due to Peter’s leaving, and Harley hadn’t wanted to talk to him in the first place). He decided then and there that he’d try again, hopefully they’d at least come to some sort of mutual agreement or tolerance of each other. He didn’t want to hate Peter forever, more for himself than for Peter, though Harley was a bit hesitant to admit that even to himself.

But he’d try again. He wouldn’t chicken out.

After all, third time’s the charm.


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...have no excuse. Please forgive the lateness of this chapter.
> 
> Also, I wrote this completely out of order and I'm too drained from midterms to even skim through this, so if it seems unorganized, that's because my _brain_ is unorganized.

Third time was _not_ the charm.

When Peter came to the Tower on Friday evening, Harley was ready. He really was. He was tired of the repugnant feelings inside him, he’d done the math, he’d figured it out (even if he hadn’t—), and he was ready.

Then Michelle and Ned got off the elevator behind Peter, and Harley promptly turned on his heel and walked back down the hall he’d come from, refusing to respond to the sound of his name being called after him. Then he locked himself in his room.

After half an hour of being curled up on the floor in the corner where his nightstand met his bed, Harley called out, “FRIDAY? What are they doing here?”

“It would appear that they are having a sleepover.”

The skin under Harley’s eye itched, and he rubbed at it as he hissed out, “Don’t they have their own homes?”

“Someone filed a complaint last time. Boss was very mad that they nearly blew up the building, so he allowed them to use the Tower, since there are safety protocols in place here and we have a state of the art Med-bay.”

“What the _fuck_ did they do?”

“Science project.”

How specific. Harley leaned back, hitting his head repeatedly on his desk. He really did want to talk to Peter. But he wasn’t sure if he could do that with others around, and it would be too rude to pull Peter away from his friends.

His soulmate busted through the gates of his mind, seemingly seething something along the lines of _stop making everything so complicated, dumbass._

That’s what Harley imagined them saying, anyways. 

But the feelings that his soulmate was sending him was something opposite to doubt, a reassurance that Harley didn’t need to keep waiting, that he shouldn’t keep waiting. His soulmate wanted him to do something.

For someone stuck in his head, his soulmate surely was getting sick of going in circles.

There was a twinge of love in his heart from his soulmate that Harley figured was a warning to stop being so self-deprecating. Harley wanted to tell his soulmate that that wouldn’t leave any personality left, but he figured that his soulmate wouldn’t like that. Also, that was a hard emotion to translate—

Harley hit his head against the wall for a bit before finally groaning and standing up. “I need coffee,” he grumbled.

Before FRIDAY could remind him that Tony didn’t want him having coffee too late, Harley left the room. He decided that he would tell Peter that he needed to talk to him in private, relaying a message from Tony, maybe?

He didn't walk through the hallways so much as he dragged himself through it. His feet barely left the floor. His mind was meddled and murky, and his soulmate was more of a distant thought than a vibrant presence. One step further away, and there would be a door between them again. His soulmate must’ve been giving Harley space.

Not that Harley wanted that, of course. But again, he probably needed it.

They were in the living room. Michelle was stretched across the length of the couch with a book over her face and her hands folded across her stomach. Probably napping. Ned and Peter sat on the floor. A bowl of popcorn sat between them. The tv screen showed the Nintendo Switch’s Mii menu. 

Ned and Peter had been laughing about something, but both of them froze and looked at Harley in horror at the same time. All the words Harley had wanted to say to Peter dissolved on his tongue.

 _‘Yup,’_ he thought, _‘third time definitely isn’t the charm.’_

Harley looked at the stupidly designed Mii on the screen that they were working on when he walked, then he blinked slowly.

_Flash._

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Looks like him,” he said.

Peter seemed to ease up, but it was Ned who spoke first. “Please don’t tell—”

Harley held a hand up to stop Ned. He wasn’t going to lie, he was a little bit surprised that it worked. “He deserves it.”

Ned sheepishly grinned, then nodded his head towards the tv. “Wanna play? Mr. Stark bought us Mario Kart when he got us the Switch.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t just buy _Nintendo_ ,” Michelle said from beneath the book on her face. Harley wondered if she just woke up, or if she’d been awake the whole time. 

He looked at Ned, and past him to where Peter sat, leaning against the edge of the couch. He was expecting Peter to be looking at Ned with wide eyes or a frantic expression. But Peter was just staring at his Star Wars socks with an expression that very clearly said that he didn’t care whether or not Harley was there.

Harley wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

He shook his head, “Nah. My little sister’s given me enough nightmares about Mario Kart to last a long-ass time.”

Michelle snorted. She finally lifted the book from her face and rolled her head around her neck as she sat up. “Good call.”

Looking back and forth between Michelle, Ned, and Peter, Harley pointed to the two boys on the floor. “Is your family okay with you sleeping over with two boys?” Remembering that this was _Michelle_ he was talking too, he quickly added, “Not that you can’t take care of yourself—it’s just that in Rose Hill things are…” he backtracked, “ _haven’t_ changed since the 1800s.”

It appeared that he spoke quickly enough, because Michelle didn’t sound mad at him. “My folks have met those two so they trust them. I think they’re more worried about _me_ corrupting _them_.”

“Your parents are smart people,” Peter muttered, prompting Michelle to smack his shoulder.

Harley laughed, then stopped himself. It felt too out of place to be here, intruding. This wasn’t a space he’d been invited to.

As if she could hear him, Michelle looked at Harley with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t have to play, but you can still hang with us,” she kicked at the end of the couch with her feet. 

He shook his head automatically. “It’s okay,” he told her, eyes catching on her book, which he could now see was _One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest_. It was worn and a bit tattered, and it was one of the few books he’d seen her carrying more than once. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m just gonna go study.”

“Nerd.” But Michelle left it at that, looking away from him to the screen where Peter and Ned were customizing their vehicles.

As Harley walked away, he could feel her watching him as he left.

* * *

The skyline looked very different at night. Harley remembered when he first got here, when he looked outside and saw the city. The views were very different during the day. He never paid much attention to what it looked like at night.

He could see how people could be consumed by the city, how those who grew up in the country could be so different. The longer he spent time here, the more he felt different. Less like Rose Hill and more like New York. He wondered if his soulmate noticed. Not even _he_ did, unless he thought about it.

Harley was sitting on the narrow window bench one floor below his room. He didn’t stray too far off in the Tower anymore, not like when he first arrived.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, only that for once, his mind wasn’t racing a million miles an hour. The noise of the city weren’t as lulling or comforting as the silence of the country. But it still relaxed him.

A voice behind him spoke. “Hey.”

Harley jumped slightly. He turned to look, but he already knew from the voice that it was Peter. “Damn, you’re like a fucking ninja,” Harley muttered.

Peter looked like he was turning over an answer in his head. “I’m not _that_ sneaky,” he finally said. Harley could tell that that wasn’t what he _wanted_ to say.

There was an awkward silence that followed. Harley’s mind was starting to race again, and he really didn’t need that at the moment. At least he wasn’t alone. Peter looked just as conflicted. Now was when Harley needed his soulmate’s comfort, but his soulmate had retreated into a far off corner. He wasn’t sure whether his soulmate did it for themselves or for Harley. He hadn’t even noticed when it happened. It must’ve been before Peter showed up, when Harley was looking down at the city.

For a moment, he and Peter made eye contact. It served as further confirmation that he wasn’t alone. That Peter was nervous about something. He looked away almost as soon as he looked at Harley, then looked just about everywhere else. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie and he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot. Harley remembered when they first met. Harley had thought he was cute.

He still thought that. Fuck.

Harley realized he’d been staring at Peter for a while. “Is there something you need?” he asked. He cringed internally, glad that his soulmate didn’t have to witness that, because the sudden breaking of the silence just made it more awkward.

Peter met his gaze again. “I…” he trailed off, and the silence between them lingered for a second, “Why are you here?”

Harley wasn’t sure what Peter meant. “Like…at the window?”

“I meant New York. Why did you come here?”

There had to be millions of ways to answer him. If Tony had asked, or Abbie, hell even his mom, Harley could give any number of answers. But his mind went blank as he looked at Peter. Peter wasn’t fidgeting anymore. Harley didn’t like that. He didn’t like being the only nervous one.

Then again, it was likely Harley’s own fault. He’d assumed that Peter was done with Harley. He’d thought that he had to be the one to talk first. But Peter seemed tired of waiting for Harley to talk first.

One thing worried him. Harley wasn’t sure that what Peter wanted to talk to Harley about was necessarily what _Harley_ wanted to talk to _Peter_ about.

“Midtown’s a good school. My mom and Tony thought I’d like it more.” Harley paused. “Pepper told me that you suggested it, so why are you asking?”

Surprised overtook Peter’s features. “Ms. Potts—”

“Why are _you_ here, Parker?” Harley cut him off. The anger he thought he’d suppressed was welling up again, curling around his heart and seeping into his bloodstream, red-hot and full of fury. Normally, his soulmate would calm him down, reign him in. But he was virtually on his own right now. It was something Harley wasn’t used to, and it showed in his newfound hostility. “What do you want?”

Peter clenched his jaw, lips pressed tightly together. 

Harley was certain that Peter wouldn’t answer.

Then he did. His lips parted, and Harley hated how his eyes caught on the curves of his skin. “I told Mr. Stark to bring you here because I wanted to know what he sees in you.” Before Peter’s words even had the chance to hurt, Peter continued. “I thought maybe it would help me understand what he sees in _me_. Why he hasn’t kicked me to the curb yet. The way he talked about you, I don’t know, it reminded me of _me_. I guess I was _too_ right, that you and I would be similar—” he stopped abruptly.

But Harley knew what Peter was thinking. Something about Peter was achingly familiar, to the point that once he really looked at him, he found it decently easy to read Peter. And Peter was thinking that he and Harley were so similar, too alike, that it went right down to even having a certain dislike for each other.

And themselves.

Peter was like Harley in all the ways he wasn’t. The things he disliked about himself were the things he saw in Harley. Harley lived on impulse, on risk, but on a moral code only he understood. The same went the other way, the things Harley disliked about himself were things he saw in Peter. Peter was organized, often uncertain, holding back the snark that Harley just let loose. 

In this brief and incomplete interaction, Harley learned more about Peter than in all the weeks since he left Rose Hill. It terrified him, because something about standing in Peter’s presence reminded him eerily of the space in his head that his soulmate took up.

Peter found his voice again. “Whatever, I just thought that if it were me in a small town, bored every day, I’d want a chance to be challenged and meet other people like me. That’s all.” Something in his eyes was darker than it had been before. 

Well, Harley wasn’t sure what to make of all this. He rubbed his face and sighed. “I’m…sorry, okay? I was an ass when we met. Tony never told me about you and I didn’t have time to process that. I was just jealous that you live close enough to see him and my time with him was just limited to the occasional visit and a few phone calls, y’know?”

Peter was looking at him almost critically. Like he was trying to find holes in Harley’s words, hunting for any hint of deception. His shoulders relaxed, “You’re serious.”

“What?”

“You’re genuinely sorry this time.” The shadow in Peter’s eyes faded.

Harley snickered, but on the inside, something giddy wound up in his stomach. His soulmate would be so proud of him, he thought. “Why so surprised?” Harley asked, unable to hold back a bit of humor that sept into his voice.

Peter observed him for a second. Then he looked away once he saw that Harley noticed. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “You weren’t, last time. That’s all.”

“I guess you were right,” Harley sighed, “that I was _really_ sorry that I got in trouble too. I’m not good at being sorry. And I just _hate_ apologies.”

“That explains why you suck at them.”

Harley couldn’t stop himself from grinning, and it did something to his heart when the corner of Peter’s lips lifted.

He’d thought Peter was cute back when they first met, and that didn’t change. He’d also thought that Peter looked pretty when he was pissed, when Harley first ‘tried’ to apologize. But that small and reluctant smile on Peter’s face truly looked stunning, and Harley felt like he was staring into the face of a dream.

“Do we have to keep hating each other?” Harley asked. “Maybe Tony was right about us getting along.”

It looked like Peter was contemplating his words, scrutinizing them and looking for any hint of a lie within them. Harley thought he’d insult him, or leave. But then Peter shook his head, and that kind of made up for everything. “You’re not off the hook for being a dick. But I wouldn’t mind it we weren’t so…hostile.”

That was enough for him. “Good—”

“We still aren’t friends,” Peter rushed his words in, almost like he was afraid of what Harley would say next. Harley thought they were fair. All things considered, Harley had started it all.

So Harley smiled again, less of a manic grin and more along the lines of something comforting, something he would smile when thinking of his soulmate, or sending them wishes of happiness. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Parker,” he finally said.

This time, the smile Peter returned was soft, childlike, a bit dopey. He seemed to forget where he was for a second before shaking his head lightly and pointing behind him. “I—I should go. Ned’s probably already on a restricted floor and if he or MJ break anything, Mr. Stark’s gonna ground me again.”

Harley nodded his head towards the door, “Go ahead, though let’s be honest, if anyone breaks anything, it’ll be her vandalizing something.”

Peter stifled a giggle. They both knew Harley was probably right.

* * *

It was well after midnight. Harley was in the kitchen, grabbing a quart of cookie dough ice cream and a spoon. He’d found a new paper on protostars and wanted to read it before watching dog videos on YouTube.

Just as he shoved a way-too-large spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, a twinge of joy crept up and overtook his mind full force. Harley internally groaned. Of course his soulmate didn’t come back until he started eating ice cream. It wasn’t like Harley needed them earlier or anything like that.

 _‘Asshole,’_ Harley thought as his soulmate fed off the joy of eating ice cream. They couldn’t taste what the other ate, not like some other soulmate pairs that Harley both envied and pitied. But they both tended to leech off of the other’s emotions when eating food. Harley’s soulmate was always hungry, it appeared.

Harley begrudgingly took another bite as he shuffled back to the fridge. He needed a drink.

Just as he touched the handle of the fridge, something in the pit of his stomach twisted, something like fear. Harley quickly sent out concern to his soulmate. He turned and quickly put the ice cream down on the counter. 

A worrying feeling filled him, but it wasn’t a feeling of his own. And it wasn’t a feeling _directed_ at him. It was his soulmate’s familiar gnawing of apprehension, that anxious feeling that Harley felt twinges of every day that sometimes blew forward full-force. 

His soulmate did their best to keep it contained. There was guilt there, Harley did his best to assure them that he didn’t mind, that it wasn’t a burden to him. But right now, there was no sheltering these emotions. His soulmate must’ve been truly panicking. It was uncharacteristic, because his soulmate took careful and calculated measures to protect Harley from pain.

Someone close to them was in danger. That was the only explanation. Harley frowned, doing his best to distance himself from his soulmate. They deserved some privacy. He still kept a careful watch on them, though. If they needed him, he would be there.

Some time passed before Harley felt a tug, his soulmate pulling him back to them. If they were standing face-to-face, Harley would’ve barreled into them with a hug.

He let relief wash over them both, but was puzzled when his soulmate withdrew for a second. It was only a split moment of hesitation before his shoulders warmed and a light pressure pressed into his skin.

Harley hugged them back, wrapping his arms around his own shoulders and tucking his chin into his chest. He rubbed the skin of his collarbone. His soulmate’s touch lingered on the curve of his skin where his shoulder met his neck.

By now, it felt safe to allow reassurance to spill over their bond and to his soulmate’s heart. His soulmate welcomed the comfort, and Harley couldn’t help but feel glad that they did. 

Slowly, Harley leaned against the kitchen island before sliding down to the ground, not moving his arms from the hug he gave himself. He could distantly hear the vibration of his phone against the countertop, but he made no more to grab it and see who it was. 

His only focus right now was on his soulmate, his arms, and the fragility and strength of their bond intertwining until they were indistinguishable from one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who leaves kudos and comments!! I really do read all of the comments and I cherish each and every one~


	8. VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter later than I expected to, as always, but what else is new with me, right?
> 
> Also also also I'm super excited because the NEXT chapter is one I've been looking forward to~~~ Well, maybe YOU guys haven't been looking forward to it, but _I_ have been~!!
> 
> (Note: Cliffhanger from the last chapter isn't resolved in this one. Sorry for the suspense on that one. But it'll come back in the next one, chapter nine!!)

Harley didn’t go to sleep until his soulmate did, which was sometime around two in the morning. He burrowed himself into his blankets and pillows, unwilling to risk his soulmate feeling cold in any sense of the word. His soulmate needed someone to be there for them. And even if Harley wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, he had to try or he wouldn’t forgive himself.

Once his soulmate was asleep, Harley still stayed awake for a few minutes to make sure that everything was okay. _Then_ he slept.

It wasn’t good quality sleep. He woke up continuously, he got tangled in his sheets, and he dreamt that he was being chased by Abbie with that _stupid fucking potato gun._

At around eight, an unholy hour to be awake on a weekend, he gave up trying to sleep and instead stared at the ceiling, wondering where he went wrong in life. He kept a close watch on his soulbond. His soulmate was still asleep, and he figured that they earned that much. But it left him feeling awfully lonely in the vastness of his empty room. When he lived his entire life sharing a mind with someone, he got used to never being alone. And the few times his soulmate went M.I.A, he almost always had someone with him.

Harley rolled onto his side and clutched a double helix pillow to his chest. It really was too early for this. He was sleepy but starting to get hungry, and he couldn’t decide whether to go try to sleep again or go get some food.

He wondered if Peter would be awake yet, or maybe Michelle or Ned. He definitely hoped that Tony was sleeping, partially because Harley felt like making something in the lab to send back to Abbie and partially because any sleep Tony got was something good in Harley’s opinion.

After his stomach growled for the hundredth time, he finally decided to drag himself out of bed. He put on his Chewbacca slippers and trudged through the penthouse. 

Ned and Peter were still asleep, sprawled on an air mattress. Peter’s leg was thrown over Ned’s stomach and Ned was clearly hogging the blankets. Harley smiled to himself, it was a cute image. They both looked so peaceful.

Michelle sat facing away from Harley. She was curled near the edge of the living room, in front of large windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. Harley couldn’t see headphones past her curly hair, but he could hear the music blasting even from so far away. It couldn’t be healthy to listen to music so loudly (then again, Harley did that pretty often). 

Her nose was buried in _One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest_ but he wasn’t so sure that she was even reading it. Loose notebook paper littered the ground around her, and her favorite gel pens were in a pile next to her. She was wearing a hoodie that Harley had _definitely_ seen Peter wear before. There was no evidence of where she’d slept. A pile of blankets were folded neatly at the foot of the couch.

Harley decided to leave her be. He didn’t know what a tired Michelle was like and he had no desire to find out.

Tony entered the kitchen just as Harley put a Hot Pocket in the microwave. He looked over Tony’s face, seeing that there weren’t any deep bags under his eyes (for once). 

Harley pressed ‘start’ on the microwave. “The one night that three volatile teenagers are sleeping under your roof is the one night that you actually sleep? Not gonna lie, that’s pretty damn ironic.”

The look on Tony’s face warned Harley not to push it. “I probably won’t make a habit of this.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

Harley stumbled against the counter, which of course did not go unnoticed by Tony. “I take it _you_ didn’t sleep well?”

“Soulmate troubles. And just missing home a bit, y’know?”

Tony shrugged, “Maybe Abbie should come by. I can send for her next weekend, if you want.”

Harley shook his head, rubbing his eyes and trying to get them to stay open. “She’s going on some class trip to St. Louis, to see the Gateway Arch or some shit like that.”

“Ah.” Tony clicked his tongue. “Well I’ll get her down here soon. I actually kind of miss the little scrub.” There was a pause of silence before Tony finally said it. “You know what I realized? I realized that you’ve never really told me about your soulbond. All I know is that it’s not a tattoo.”

The hum of the microwave felt louder, suddenly. Harley’s eyes instinctively flew to Tony’s hand, where streaks of ink encircle his wrist like a bracelet of woven thorns. 

It wasn’t like Harley never told Tony about his soulbond. He just never gave too many details. Tony knew it was rare, knew it was mostly in his head, knew that Harley cared about his soulmate so much because his soulbond was something that connected them in a way that Harley would never connect to anyone else.

On cue, his soulmate faintly appeared, tucked into a small space in the back of Harley’s mind. They seemed groggy, but conscious enough to grace Harley with their presence. It was a silent comfort that he was grateful for. Harley internally smiled, but made no indication that anything had changed.

“It’s weird and complicated. You’re not missing any important information, don’t worry.”

Tony hummed, but the look in his eyes told Harley that he wasn’t pleased. But he wouldn’t push it either.

The microwaved ‘ding-ed’, and Harley tried to ignore Tony’s departure from the kitchen.

* * *

Midtown felt easier now.

Peter didn’t talk to Harley all during school. Harley wondered if their talk over the weekend hadn’t really done anything, in the end, but then during Academic Decathlon practice, Peter turned his phone to Harley and showed him a meme. He took that as a sign that things were alright between them.

His soulmate seemed to be feeling better, but there was still an underlying feeling of worry and concern for someone they cared about. Harley couldn’t piece together what exactly happened that night. Obviously something bad happened either to or with someone close to his soulmate, but there wasn’t any concrete way ask his soulmate what was going on. Whenever he prodded, he was only met with half-hearted reassurance.

Whatever it was, his soulmate was trying to pile other emotions between Harley and their concerns. Harley hoped his soulmate would reach out if they really needed him.

After Decathlon practice, Peter caught up to Harley in the hall. “Everything okay?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “You looked kinda out of it in there.”

Harley was taken aback by how easily empathy came to Peter. It was clear that Peter wasn’t asking the same way he’d ask Ned or Michelle, but his attitude was far less crude than it was last week. Harley thought it’d been easy for Peter to put Harley in a box separate from his friends. Now, he was realizing that being hostile didn’t come easy to Peter.

“Just worried about my soulmate,” Harley said. He changed the topic before Peter could ask for further elaboration. “I’m worried about our physics project too. I was kinda hoping I’d get you for a partner, then I could push all the work onto you.”

If Peter noticed Harley’s abrupt avoidance of talking about his soulmate, he didn’t voice his concerns. “Nah, you’ve got that southern hospitality. You would’ve been a _great_ partner. You just act all tough.”

Harley’s ears felt hot—he hoped Peter didn’t notice if he was blushing. “Yeah yeah, Parker.” They stopped walking once they reached Peter’s locker. Harley leaned against the locker next to Peter’s while Peter switched out his notebooks and picked up a textbook. “Who’d you get, again?”

“Gwen,” Peter said, “thank goodness for that. We did a project together last year for English, she’s awesome. It’s actually better that I’m working with her instead of Ned. We’d probably just goof off and get nothing done till the night before it’s due.” He closed his locker. “You’re working with Flash, right?”

Harley groaned. “Don’t remind me.” 

Peter snickered.

They had to speed walk to get to their next class, it wasn’t one they shared, but the classes were in the same hallway. 

“We should work on something after class,” Harley said as they walked. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but he wanted to prove that he was trying, here. 

Peter looked at him out of the corner of his eye, a bit stunned. 

“Just in the lab,” Harley said quickly. “Maybe not lightsabers, but I was just…” He grimaced. “That got awkward, shit.”

Peter smiled, it was small, but it was there. His expression looked apologetic, however. “Maybe this weekend?” he asked, “I’m not going to the Tower today. Last minute stuff to do with my aunt.”

Harley nodded, “Yeah, it’s cool.” He felt more disappointed than he should have, which made him feel guilty. This was still new to both of them. There would be plenty of time to nerd-out together, he reminded himself.

Peter’s class came first, but he didn’t go in immediately. He hovered, looking at Harley with an unreadable expression.

“Something wrong?” Harley couldn’t stop himself from asking. He wanted to kick himself shortly after. His soulmate was distant, almost as if observing. They must have been sensing Harley’s attention focusing in on Peter in a way that felt very confusing. 

Sure he thought Peter was cute, but there was nothing his soulmate should’ve been worried about, right?

Yet it was definitely nervousness that his soulmate was feeling. Maybe he was reading too much into it, or maybe he was misreading the situation behind it entirely, but it didn’t make Harley feel too good about himself either way. 

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but the warning bell rang and he snapped his jaw shut. “Nothing,” he said quickly, and his voice sounded half an octave higher. What could he have been worried about? “It’s just— I mean…” his eyes looked a million miles away. “Never mind. I’ll tell you about it some other time.”

Harley felt confused, and he must’ve looked like it too, because Peter seemed to panic a bit.

“It’s nothing bad!” he rushed in. “Not about you, really. I was just thinking about this…” he trailed off again, “This… _thing_ Ned helps me with sometimes. Michelle too, sometimes. And I was thinking that maybe you could help with it too. Shit, now _I’m_ making this awkward,” Peter laughed half-heartedly to himself, rubbing his face with his hand.

Harley watched as Peter’s fingers caught in the edge of his hairline, and Harley almost wished it was him touching Peter’s hair instead, then he realized how gay that sounded and he cleared his throat in a forced chuckle. “We’ll talk this weekend then,” he assured. If he weren’t so worried about his soulmate and how Peter looked more attractive in the dingy hallway lighting than he had any right too, he might have worried instead about what the hell Peter might have been talking about. 

Peter smiled again, but his eyes didn’t look so at ease. He ducked into his class quickly and quietly.

For a moment, Harley stood there, wondering what the hell was going on. He felt like he’d fixed a problem when he talked to Peter, or at least he’d begun to. But it was like there were a million other things lurking under the surface, things that would explode without warning and leave even more problems in their wake.

* * *

He waited for Happy in the library once school ended. Happy had an errand to run, and Harley didn’t mind waiting. He liked to get to the library whenever he could so he could get something to read.

After debating whether or not to just reread Harry Potter for the seventieth time, he noticed that Michelle was sitting near the corner of the library. There was a pile of worn books next to her, some with a library sticker and others without. None of them were open. On the table in front of her, a notebook was opened, but her pencil remained out of her hand and sitting next to the notebook.

Harley wasn’t sure what compelled him, but he walked towards her with his lips pursed. She’d been out of it ever since the sleepover. 

“Hey,” he said once he was standing in front of her. She jumped slightly when he spoke. “You alright?”

Michelle’s eyes narrowed, “I’m fine, Keener. Beat it.” She waved her hand like she was shoo-ing him away.

Harley frowned when he saw that her notebook was covered in a list of phone numbers. There were words hastily scribbled in, probably naming what each number was for, but Harley couldn’t read what it was upside down.

“You should head home,” he told her, “get some rest. Take a page from your own book.” She was always telling the other decathlon kids to rest before studying, then masked her concern by telling them they’d all suck if they crammed so much information in their heads at once. 

Michelle didn’t seem to be in a mood for snark, though. Her glare would’ve killed him if looks could kill. Harley wasn’t the best at reading the room, but it was pretty obvious that she wanted him to leave her alone. “Shouldn’t _you_ be resting then?”

Harley raised his hands in defense. “I’m just—”

“I’m not tired,” she snapped, smacking one of her hands against the table. Harley flinched at the sound, blood going cold at the familiar noise. His dad used to hit the table too, whenever Harley’s parents fought.

He reached for his soulmate, but he hadn’t realized the bond was shut off. He hadn’t felt anything from his soulmate since his conversation with Peter. It made him feel a bit hollow and a bit embarrassed about the flash of fear that had washed through him like a cold hand gripping his throat. 

Michelle’s eyes widened when she saw Harley’s reaction. She quickly retracted her hand from the table and cradled it against her torso, sheepishly curling in on herself. “Sorry… _shit_ ,” she leaned back in her chair suddenly, the motion jolting the table and causing her pencil to roll a bit, “I’m sorry, I just—” she cut herself off.

The silence was deafening. Harley didn’t feel scared anymore. Just sad.

He pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. “Family, friends, or soulmate?”

Michelle paused before answering. “Soulmate,” she said finally, rubbing her arm like soothing a wound.

“Have you met them yet?”

Michelle shook her head, “Nah. It’s…” she didn’t finish.

“I haven’t met mine either,” Harley told her. “But I feel like I know them well, more than my own family, I think.”

“Non-traditional soulbonds are like that, I guess.” She spoke those words like she knew it firsthand. But there was sadness there, like she’d lost her soulmate before she even got the chance to meet them, know them, and she wasn’t allowed to mourn them. 

He pressed his lips together. “What’s your soulbond?”

“None of your goddamn business,” she muttered, leaning down to grab her water bottle from her backpack. Michelle barely took a sip before pulling it away from her lips. “I bet you get tired of that question too.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Harley admitted. “It’d be easier if I knew them already, like in person. But I don’t.”

Michelle nodded. Harley looked at her notebook. Now that he was sitting, and in a different angle, he could kind of make out what the words she had written were.

She caught his line of sight and quickly grabbed her notebook. She flipped it closed and shoved it in her backpack. “Don’t even try, Keener.”

Harley wasn’t sure how to feel. He wanted his soulmate there, to understand that he was in over his head with this one. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were pissed at him for Peter, even if they had no idea who Peter was. 

“I’m just worried,” he said, “you’re my friend, Michelle. I’m here if you wanna talk, or I’m sure Ned and Peter would happily listen. I know that being quiet and observing is kind of your whole thing, but others are willing to listen too.”

Michelle stared at him. He was pretty sure she was about to punch him, but instead she said, “MJ.”

“What—?”

“My friends call me MJ,” she cut him off.

He realized that he _had_ heard Ned and Peter call her ‘MJ’ before. He didn’t realize it wasn’t a nickname they gave her, but rather one _she_ gave to _them_ to use.

Harley grinned, “Glad to see you’re warming up to me.”

“Don’t push it.” MJ picked up her pencil and stood up. She observed Harley for a second, then nodded to herself. “Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer to talk. Shoot me a text when you want to rant about your own soulmate drama.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond. She swiftly walked away, but Harley felt like they had gone one step forward _without_ going two steps back.

* * *

It didn’t take long before Happy finally texted Harley that he was outside. Happy was very happy for once, probably because Peter had canceled going to the Tower, which meant that Happy didn’t have to listen to the two teens bicker all the way to the Tower.

The penthouse was quiet when Harley got there. Tony and Pepper were working in the lower levels of the Tower, and apparently had plans to go out for dinner later. Harley figured they deserved it. With the mess that had formed in the aftermath of the Accords, both of them were constantly working to patch things up between Stark Industries and the government, along with trying to protect the tattered remains of the Avengers. 

On that happy note, Harley had the penthouse to himself, which meant he could watch a baking show in the living room _and_ eat mint chocolate chip ice cream without being judged.

Five hours and one tub of ice cream later, his soulmate and MJ and Peter had all faded to the back of his mind. He was even on the border of falling asleep, which was always a good bonus. He needed to sleep more anyways. Even if it was on the couch (which were super comfortable, but not good for sleeping). 

Just as his eyes began to droop, Harley heard FRIDAY’s voice coming from down the hall. He jerked awake and slipped down to crouch half on the couch and half on the floor. Harley peeked over the back of the couch. 

…In hindsight, maybe not a smart idea if he suspected there was someone in the house.

“FRI?” Harley whispered.

“The Tower is secure,” FRIDAY said, Irish accent not bothering to keep its voice down. “It appears Spiderman has been injured while on patrol. He’s just stopped by for some medical supplies, as he was in the area.”

Something crashed down the hall.

FRIDAY sounded exasperated, as much as an AI could sound exasperated, anyways. “It would also appear that Spiderman dizzy and knocking things over.”

Harley wasn’t sure why that worried him, but he suddenly found himself walking briskly towards the infirmary.

Looking back, he should have left it alone, or at least thought it through a bit more. But he found himself walking through the doorway. In the back of his mind, he told himself that it didn’t matter, that Spiderman’s identity would be safe because obviously he wouldn’t take his mask off when he wasn’t sure who was home—

Nope. Turns out that Spiderman _would_ take his mask off even when he wasn’t sure who was home.

Harley froze in the doorway, eyes glued to Spiderman as he pressed a Hello Kitty band-aid over a cut on his shoulder. His suit was pulled down his arm to show a few cuts on his upper arm, like glass had embedded itself into his skin. And because life likes to go ahead and complicate itself for Harley, Spiderman’s mask was off.

 _Peter’s_ mask was off.

Peter stared at Harley. Neither of them said anything for a good, long moment. Harley suddenly remembered earlier that day, when Peter said something had come up and he wouldn’t be able to go to the Tower.

Harley let out a shaky breath, “Holy—”

“—Fuck,” Peter finished. He didn’t look shocked anymore. Hell, he just looked tired. Like he was used to people accidentally stumbling upon _his biggest secret_. “Mr. Stark’s gonna kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up:
> 
> Chapter IX.  
> Interlude 1; Peter.


End file.
